Le Jazz Hot
by Miss Antoinette92
Summary: AU London Jazz era. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are trying to stop a man that threatens the world. When neither can get close to him, who do they turn to for help? Harry's old friend and Draco's brokenhearted love, Jazz Singer Hermione Granger.
1. Why Don't You Do Right?

It was a dreary London night, jazz music coming out from some tavern followed by the short catcalls and whistles coming from the drunk men. The fog was beginning to roll in, making the street lamps shine dimly across the brick streets, with the smell of rain and smoke coming down among the inhabitants. The moon was nonexistent as well, taking London into its' dark and dreary atmosphere.

Two men's footsteps could be heard in the silence, not walking in a hurry but with intention. They both wore long dark coats with hats covering their faces, almost blending in with their surroundings as they walked in silence, occasionally eyeing each other. They turned into a short alley that echoed with faint music and laughter, following the sound until they came to a door. The taller of the two, opened the door only to have a large man stand in their way of coming inside.

"And why would two fellas like yourselves find themselves in our humble establishment?" he asked in a low voice, eyeing them.

"Just here for the scotch and music," answered the man impatiently.

The man shrugged and stepped aside, "Then enjoy yourself gents."

The two men stepped in, quickly removing their hats and shaking the night from their coats. One of the men, a man with glasses, black hair, and dark green eyes easily took in his surrounds, while the other, a man with blond hair and piercing blue-grey eyes scanned the tavern with intent.

It was quite large, despite the small building exterior. About ten tables with five or four chairs were arranged around a stage, which held a complete jazz band playing a slow ballade. Along the wall, cushioned booths were set up on an elevated level reserved for people who could afford a tab. The bar stood off to the side with stools that only the drunks or the depressed occupied and the bartender cleaning the countertop. The tavern was filled with men and women, either dancing on the floor or talking and smoking as they sat down at the tables.

Not one of the finer sites in London, but one with the most information when questions were asked to the right people.

"Potter,"

Harry Potter looked to his companion, Draco Malfoy, who jerked his head to the corner booth, which was left empty. He nodded and followed him to take their seats, taking off their coats in the process.

"I can't believe you dragged me here," Draco mumbled, sitting down and raising a hand to catch a server's eye.

"We need her help," Harry explained, sitting across from him.

"No we don't," he insisted sharply.

"Yes we do, Malfoy. And besides, it'll be good, for the both of you."

"Like hell it will," he growled.

The server came to them. "What can I get you gents?"

"A bottle of scotch and two glasses please," he snarled.

The server looked taken aback at the anger of this man, but thankfully was saved by Harry.

"Just two scotch," he said, waving the server away.

Once the server left, Harry frowned at Draco. "Bloody hell Draco, go easy on the help."

"Piss off, I shouldn't even be here."

"Oh, stop being a martyr," he said exasperated. "We talk, she answers, we leave. You probably won't even have to see her."

Draco turned away and took his glass of scotch that was placed in front of them. Harry sighed and clapped with the crowd as the band finished their song. A man dressed in band attire, carrying a trumpet stepped up to the microphone that stood in the middle of the stage, smiling as he addressed the crowd.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low and deep. "Thank you for coming ladies and gentlemen, but tonight's not about the band tonight, oh no. Tonight we have the pleasure of introducing renowned singer, Miss Hermione Granger."

As the crowd clapped and exclaimed, Draco gulped the rest of his drink and motioned for the server for another drink.

A young woman with wavy brown hair, clipped back with a bronze diamond clip, came out with a spotlight following her. Her smile shone brightly as she made her way across the stage to the microphone. Her dress of a dark green velvet pooled gracefully around her, with the fabric hugging her womanly curves that men craved for. The V neckline was deep but just barely touched the tops of her assets that the fabric covered. Her arms were bare, and that only seemed to make her pale skin glow against the color of her dress and the dim lights.

The server came back with a bottle of scotch but when he reached for Draco's glass, Draco ripped the bottle out of his hand and poured the cup himself.

"Just leave the bottle," Harry sighed.

After downing another glass, Draco looked to stage and stared at the woman, who nodded to the band that she was ready. She closed her eyes listening to the first notes of the bass play out, and then opened them with a sly grin. Her expression changed to fit the music with an attractive, flirty smile she gave to the crowd, her soft, sultry voice sang out.

_You had plenty money, 1922 __  
><em>_You let other women make a fool of you __  
><em>_Why don't you do right, like some other men do? _

_Get out of here and get me some money too.__  
><em>

Harry glanced at Draco and smirked when he saw him about to pour himself another glass. He reached over and took the bottle, which caused Draco to glare at him in fury.

He gestured to the stage. "Just watch."

_You're sittin' down and wonderin' what it's all about __  
><em>_If you ain't got no money, they will put you out __  
><em>_Why don't you do right, like some other men do? _

_Get out of here and get me some money too __  
><em>

Draco leaned back it the booth with a hand fiddling with his now empty glass. He couldn't stop watching her, unlike other woman he's been with; she was _much_ more than what she appeared to be.

"_She looks perfect," _he thought to himself, watching her sway her head to the music with a slight smile across her face.

_Now if you had prepared twenty years ago _

_You wouldn't be a-wanderin' now from door to door_

_Why don't you do right, like some other men do? _

_Get out of here and get me some money too__  
><em>

He watched stoically as she eyed a man that blushed around his companions, but growled when he saw a man wink at her and she winked back. She strolled around the stage unnerved by the stares, seeming to enjoy such attention and power she had.

_I fell for your jivin' and I took you in _

_Now all you got to offer me's a drink of gin _

_Why don't you do right, like some other men do?_

_Get out of here and get me some money too _

_Why don't you do right, like some other men do? _

_Like some other men…do_

With a final melodic note, the crowd applauded. She smiled but instead of taking her bow, she acknowledged the band behind her, clapping for them.

"_Never takes credit," _he smirked, applauding slowly with the rest of the crowd. "_Same old Granger."_

"Thank you," she said to the crowd. She nodded to the band, who started to begin the next song.

Draco could feel Harry's eyes on him, watching for his next move. He kept his eyes on the stage as a trumpet began to play and she sang again.

_Good morning heartache, you old gloomy sight__  
><em>_Good morning heartache__, __thought we said goodbye last night__  
><em>_I turned and tossed until it seems you had gone__ b__ut here you are with the dawn__  
><em>

"Such a beauty,"

Draco glanced over his shoulder at the booth next to them. Two ladies sat together with their drinks and their heads turned to each other, a usual posture for such women.

"Yes, but why is she singing in a place like this? All of England is asking for her and she's here."

"I wonder is she has a…_relationship_ with the owner."

"Well, a women like her with no husband, she might have a lover or two."

Draco clutched his glass, his anger and frustration becoming evident.

_Wish I'd forget you, but you're here to stay__  
><em>_It seems I met you, when my love went away__  
><em>_Now everyday I start by saying to you__ '__Good morning heartache… what's new'_

_Stop haunting me now, can't shake you no how__,__ just leave me alone__  
><em>_I've got those Monday blues__, s__traight through Sunday blues_

_Good morning heartache, here we go again__  
><em>_Good morning heartache__, __you're the one who knew me when__  
><em>_Might as well get used to you hangin' around__  
><em>_Good morning heartache…sit down_

The crowd applauded again, and Harry turned back to Draco. He was staring at the stage again, his face stoic. Once Draco broke out of his thoughts he glanced up at Harry, resolution etched across his face.

"I'll ask her myself."

* * *

><p><strong>Songs used:<strong>

Why don't you do right-Lil Green/Jessica Rabbit

Good Morning Heartache-Gretchen Wilson/Billie Holiday

***REVISED***


	2. Good Morning Heartache

Hermione took her last bow of the evening and left the stage smiling, the band playing over her departure. As she walked into the wings, she could feel her energy linger and run its course through her body. She made her way around the narrow stage hallway till she came to her dressing room. It was quite simple and a little small, but she wasn't one to be caught up on such things. Next to the door was a small Victorian chaise lounge that despite looking worn and aged was still as comfortable as the day it was purchased. There was a dresser on the other side of the wall that kept the gowns she would be wearing the rest of the week, with a vanity next to it facing the doorway. It was quaint, with the walls done in a soft beige color and covered in framed photographs of musicians and singers that performed at the club. It made Hermione a little sad to think that the only 'home' she had consisted of stages, the dressing rooms, and hotel rooms. She wasn't complaining, her life was good and she took care of herself, but what woman didn't want a home to go to every night?

She sighed and took a sip from the cup of prepared tea that sat on her vanity. Thankfully, the tea was still warm and after taking another sip it instantly soothed her sore throat. Sitting down on her vanity stool, she glanced up at her reflection, taking in her makeup and hair. Her makeup only needed a little touch up, and with the light's beating down on her, thankfully, that was her _only_ problem.

When she reached for her case of powder, the pictures she tucked into her mirror caught her eye. Her best friends from her school days, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, where in one photo looking very debonair standing side by side at the Governor's Ball a couple years ago, but she knew better. They were quite a trio at school, and while she was considerate with her studies they would be badgering her to no end. She smiled at the memories and hoped to see them again, despite their schedules—she as a wanted singer, and them as Government officials.

Harry was working as a government official in London's Parliament, working between the British Armed Forces and the War office. Ronald was a stationed in India as a liaison between the Indian government and London and rarely had the time to visit anymore. They were surprised that she herself wanted to be a singer, not being very social during her time at school, but when they heard her at her first venue they were taken aback and joined in with the admiring crowd. While Ronald went abroad, Hermione managed to stay in touch with Harry despite the speed at which her career was taking off.

The next photograph, hidden behind her jewelry box, made her heart cringed whenever she looked at it, still not understanding why she even kept it. Maybe it was a reminder to her, or maybe she was a masochist in how feeling the rage build up within her and drive herself in her work. The picture was clear and professionally done, taken from the shoulders up. A man with blond almost white hair, in a formal suit looked seriously into the camera and into her. In the corner of the photo scrawled in a neat but slightly messy cursive read:

_Thinking of you, love Draco_

She scoffed at that statement:_ love. _If she ever saw him again she would—

"You were brilliant tonight," said a voice behind her.

Hermione's body stiffened and her eyes widen at the all too familiar voice. Glancing in her mirror, she saw him leaning against the frame of her doorway; his dark charcoal grey suit appeared black in the lite room and his blond hair and pale skin made his appearance looked intimidating. But against Hermione's stubbornness, wit and rage, the man standing behind her was as intimidating as a boy in his father's suit.

She stood up but then quickly regretted her decision because he stared with a powerful hunger that made her go weak in the knees but she managed to steady herself by leaning back on her vanity. She swallowed her emotions and focused on the most dominant one that was surfacing.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" she spat, breaking his lingering gaze.

Shaking his head, he grinned. "Hello to you too."

"Drop dead."

"Oh," he tsked. "Not very nice, you can at least be a _little_ civil."

"_Civil_?" she gasped, shocked as she advanced towards him. "That's rich coming from a pompous prat, that doesn't even have the decency and respect of a grown man to—"

Draco flinched in anger and grabbed her by her arms. "_Don't_. You have no idea—"

"Hermione!" Harry interjected, snapping Hermione and Draco out of their spat.

Hermione took a breath and turned her attention to her friend, while Draco stepped away trying to shake off his frustration.

"Harry," she said, giving him a hug. "How is Luna?"

"Never better," he answered, "And how are you? Obviously singing well."

"Yes, well, things _have_been a little busy, but nothing I can't handle."

"Same old Hermione," he said, holding her at arms length. "Unfortunately this isn't a social call, _we _have something to ask you."

She glanced over at Draco, who avoided eye contact and found interest in the photographs on the wall.

"Of course, please take a seat," she said. "Would you like some tea? Or did Draco drink all the booze?"

"Um, no we're fine," Harry said, slightly uncomfortable at her.

Hermione sat down at her vanity with her tea in hand. "So what do you need to ask?"

"Well," Harry started, sitting on the chaise. "Draco actually…wanted to…"

Hermione glared at him over the top of her cup.

"Well, yes, never mind," he said, clearing his throat and continuing. "For the past couple months, plans of the government's security have gone missing. Plans for attacks, evacuations, military attacks, _everything_. Not only does this put this country in danger, but other countries as well, whoever is an ally with the British Forces. The war office is afraid that whomever stole the plans will sell this information to the highest bidder and with these plans they know everything, where we'll go, how we attack—"

"Which people to hurt," Draco interjected, looking straight at her.

Hermione shifted at his gaze but kept her attention on Harry.

"Do you have an idea who took the plans?" she asked, concerned.

"We believe it to be a man by the name of Cormac McLaggen, he works along side Bartemious Crouch."

"The politician that ran for Prime Minister?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing. "How are they acquainted?"

"He's friends with Crouch's son, Barty Crouch Jr.," Draco answered dryly. "Family favor I suppose. He's too young to be considered seriously but Crouch keeps him as his confidant."

"Crouch is the Secretary of State for defense now," Harry continued, "Closed up but McLaggen is a loose cannon. He's in an untouchable position, but we know that McLaggen's involved but we don't have enough to convict."

"So why are you telling me this?" Hermione questioned. "How could I _possible _help?"

"McLaggen enjoys women," Draco explained bluntly. "He spends most of the time at pubs and restaurants surrounding by women that can't think for themselves. Of course, half the time he's too drunk to notice."

"And you believe a _drunk_ stole government documents?" Hermione snapped at him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "_Really_?"

"Hermione, we're working on _this_ lead," Harry explained, distracting her from Draco, who looked ready to fight. "We believe he has the documents and probably just waiting for a high price. We need you're help to expose him and salvage the situation. We need you to get close to McLaggen, and hopefully get close to Crouch too, if you can distract these men something might slip that we can use against them."

Hermione took a breath, "Harry, this is _really_ dangerous, not for me but for you. You're planning to arrest a _very_powerful man that can _destroy_you. Your family, your career…do you _really_know what you're getting into?"

"I know, _we_know."

Draco turned his head away.

"This isn't a career maker for us, our nation is in danger, and we need to keep it safe_. __You don't __have__ to do this, but it's the only way we can get any ground in this case." _

Hermione glanced at Harry then at Draco, who was leaning against the wall refusing to make eye contact. She felt compelled to help, for Harry's sake and England's, but the thought of having to be around him…

She shook the thought out of her head. She couldn't make this personal, Harry needed her help and England was a target with no defense. The answer was simple.

"What do you want me to do?"

* * *

><p>*<strong>REVISED<strong>*


	3. Once a Memory

Draco stared at the empty brandy glass in his hand. After giving a place to meet the next afternoon to go over details, they left the club and went their separate ways: Harry to his wife, Hermione to the stage to finish off her night, and Draco to his house, attempting to forget the whole night with a bottle of brandy.

Seeing Hermione did a lot to him, his emotions running like a moving picture: love, anger, lust, confusion, guilt, happiness, sadness—each flipping by in seconds. Draco almost killed himself at seeing her stand up and lean against her vanity, so innocent that she probably didn't notice. Her pose revealed the curves and assets that he fell in love with but they hid the strength she had to stand on her own two feet by herself. The burn of the brandy as it coated his throat seemed to stop his rising feelings.

He glanced over at the couch that was placed in the middle of the room, facing the glass double doors and overlooking the small garden. She would always sit there and read when he had to sign papers or finish his paperwork, sometimes reading to him when he could no longer look at the political jargon.

_He walked into the study to meet Hermione and found her already sitting on the couch, reading a small black book and reclining across the couch with her feet propped up. Completely absorbed in her reading, she didn't register Draco standing in the doorway, watching her with a smile. She wore her hair in messy but neat curls pinned away from her face, and a blue chiffon dress with a sheer boat neckline revealing the bodice underneath. The hem barely hit the bottom of her knees, revealing her long slender legs and her black-heeled shoes. She was a beauty without effort, but it didn't reveal who she really was: a woman of strength, heart, and passion. Everything Draco wanted in a woman. _

"_Waiting from someone, miss?" He asked._

_She jumped startled, but as she saw him, she smiled. A smile that reach to her brown eyes, making them sparkle with mirth, and tugged Draco's heart. _

"_Why yes I am," she answered, very properly. "I'm waiting for my lover."_

_She turned and placed her arms along the back of the couch with her chin resting on her flat hands._

"_Do you happen to know where I can find such a man?"_

The memory came as quick as it went. Draco poured himself another drink and escaped the now confining study. He entered the dimly lit foyer and went to the main staircase that wrapped against the side of the wall and up into the second floor. Taking a sip from his glass, he made his way up the stairs and to his bedroom, stopping as he passed by the small window alcove that overlooked the garden and the occasional sunrise.

_Draco exited his bedroom, a look of concern etched across face._

"_Mione?" he called._

"_Over here Draco,"_

_Draco turned and saw Hermione sitting in the window alcove, her black eastern dressing gown wrapped loosely around her. The window behind her poured in light from the nightlife outside, casting her body in a calm eerie glow and the sleepy smile on her soft face beckoning him to her._

"_Can't get enough of the snow?" he asked. _

"_Never," she answered. "It's so perfect and it means spring's around the corner."_

"_It is nice the first time it comes around," she said, leaning on the wall behind her. "Then it gets troublesome."_

"_True," She agreed, looking up with a grin. "But then you play in it and love it all over again."_

"_I want to love you all over again," he said, grazing a hand across her cheek._

"_What have we been doing all night then?" she questioned playfully._

"_I didn't mean _that_," he sat down and lifted her so she sat between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her, his hand's playing with the silk of her nightgown. "I mean meeting you for the first time and wooing you again, again, and again."_

_He punctuated each 'again' with a kiss making her giggle and relax into his body._

"_Yes, you were quite the snake charmer." _

"_I believe you mean, you '_are'_ quite the snake charmer, love," he murmured, against her neck, giving a peck here and there. _

"_And ever the arrogant man," she laughed turning to face him. "But still a humble man."_

_She reached a hand up, stroking his chin and inching herself towards him. Their lips met in a tender caress, Hermione's arm wrapping up and around his neck, and Draco caressing her skin through the fabric of her nightwear. _

"_I love you, Draco," she whispered, as they broke the kiss._

"_I—"_

Draco slammed his bedroom door shut, shaking himself out of the memory. He finished off his drink, and made his way to his dresser where a lone, almost empty bottle of scotch sat. He topped off his drink and moved towards the bed in shuffling steps. He sat down on the edge, slouching forward and resting his elbows on the tops of his knees.

It was only a matter of time before the emotions and impulses were unbearable and he needed to act upon them. For know, they were depriving him of every coherent thought he managed to make. His urge to comfort her and to forget what he did was halted by the angry cold stare she gave him. Her anger filled the guilt that sat in the pit of his stomach. They were both stubborn, always wanting to be the one that was right, arguing to no end. Their feelings for one another holding them back from walking away. Now, it was different—all feelings that she once held for him was gone, anger and loathing filling the emptiness of her life. He wanted nothing more than to speak with her, explain everything, but the hurt in her eyes made him turn away with guilt.

He pulled the top drawer of his bedside table open and rummage through it,. After a couple seconds of searching he pulled out a silver chain, a silver ring with a round diamond sitting on square bed of diamonds strung on it shined up at him —simple and elegant; embodying Hermione in the smallest way. He never got a chance to give it to her, or even plan when he was going to ask her, his father put a stop to that.

_Draco came into his house late one afternoon; he only had a little time before he had to meet with Harry for a meeting. He went into the study to grab a few files and papers that he believed he needed, a small smile on his face as he strolled in the room. Hermione and him spent the evening in the study, looking out into the garden and being warmed by the fireplace. Her singing have gotten a lot of recognition within the last few months from hotels and elite nightclubs, and he for one—_

"_Well, Draco, why so happy?" _

_Draco stilled, turning towards the voice. Sitting in a chair hidden in the corner of the room, sat Lucius Malfoy. His blond-white hair styled away from his face, his hands resting on the arm of the chair and his legs cross with his long black cane in reach resting next to him. He wore a black coat and suit with a silk tie and ivory cufflinks, looking every bit of the arrogant aristocrat he was known to be. _

"_What are you doing here?" Draco snarled. "Get the hell out of my house!"_

"_It is actually my house, before it was so wrongfully taken from me," Lucius replied, calmly. "But thankful, the Italians pay handsomely for information and loyalty to get out of jail for a few days…especially when one wants to meet with his own son."_

"_What do you want?" Draco snarled, his temper getting the best of him. _

"_Well to be frank, it's not what _I _want it's apparently what _you_ want,"_

"_I want nothing from you."_

_Lucius lifted a small ring box. With a flick of his finger, it opened to show a diamond ring nestled on the velvet bed._

"_Where did—"_

"_You want to marry a woman below you," Lucius said ignoring his son, the ring capturing his attention. "Now, Draco, have I taught you nothing? Woman like her deserve only one thing…to die in the gutter."_

"_You son of a—"_

"_I would watch your language their son," he interrupted, not phased in the least. "Normally, I wouldn't even brother with something as lowly as your personal life, but to think something that…_ghastly_ will be part of the family, I can't really allow it to happen. A singer, Draco, really?"_

"_Why the hell do you care about my life, I rid myself of your repulsive lifestyle years ago," Draco said, clenching his fist._

_Lucius chuckled. "How quaint Draco, _truly_ noble. Getting away from the father that wants a good life for his family, a hero indeed. Nonetheless, I came here to warn you, if you do not stop seeing her…I'm be disappointed to see her in the path of danger."_

"_You fuck—"_

_Lucius pulled a concealed revolver from his pocket, pointing it straight at Draco, freezing him on the spot. "Now, Draco really, manners."_

"_I'm not going to leave her," Draco defied. "You can get your—"_

_Lucius pulled the hammer back, the deafening click stopping Draco's protest. "I'm not one for getting blood every where Draco, so I'm only going to say this once. _Leave the whore alone_."_

_It took everything he had not to speak; his father pulled the trigger on him without remorse one too many times. His father was going to kill Hermione all because he wants to keep the proud bloodline intact with the blue bloods of the world. Draco was disgusted with the thought of such an archaic lifestyle, he was about to tell him to go to hell, and then…Hermione popped into his head. Her smiling face with her eyes sparkling, her furrowed brow when she's thinking, her voice angry or happy it didn't matter—gone, never to come back. His father was never one that to bluff; he would kill her in cold blood without a care in the world, wiping blood off his hands like brushing dust of your sleeve._

_He would be losing the woman he love either way, but what was worse: seeing her dead or alive? _

_He turned to his father, who sat looking bored, and forced himself to nod in understanding._

"_See now?" exclaimed Lucius, returning the gun to his front coat and standing up. "Was that so hard?"_

"_Just. Get. Out." Draco said through gritted teeth._

"_Yes, of course," Lucius said already out the study door, tossing the ring box to Draco as he walked out of the room. "I will know if you keep your promise, Draco. Good day!"_

Draco sighed clenching the ring in his hand and held the fist to his head.

For now, everything should just stay tucked away—his feelings, his love, the truth. Everything.

****REVISED****


	4. My Man

Hermione stared at the ceiling of her bed in her hotel room, going through the events of the night running through her head. Seeing Draco again was like a bucket of water failing down on her, leaving her in the middle of the room, cold and shocked. When she felt his gaze upon her, the feelings of their love that was a thing of the past came down upon her like a wave. Her heart beating fast against her chest and feeling her face flush from the arousal that he brought out of her from her gaze.

"Why did he come back?" she thought, tears burning her eyes. "Was it enough that he left me?"

She swallowed her tears, taking deep breathes, trying to control herself. She wasn't one for tears, when she did her face and nose turned red and her eyes brightened in watery tears—to her, it wasn't attractive. She pulled herself out of her bed and took her night robe off the bedpost, slipping it on as she walk across the room. The room consists of her private, dressing room, and small sitting room with a small table behind the couch, which held a few bottle of wine from her shows. Popping a cork of a bottle of red wine she poured herself a brandy glass full. Making her way to the small window, she took a sip of her drink leaning against the wood and staring out into the dark city.

The sky was still black and the city still surrounded in fog, but hopefully that will change once the sun came up in the next three hours. Normally, Hermione would be asleep and not wake until eleven, but after a night of surprises, her body wouldn't allow her to rest. Harry asking for her help wasn't a surprise; she did multiple small jobs for him—flirting with a drunk at a bar as he searched his room, watching a man's 'business' meeting at a restaurant, befriending a wife or lover for a slip of the tongue. It gave her a little excitement to her life, stepping away from the scheduled nightlife and indulging in a day's worth of espionage and thrill. Harry never gave details to what he life involved, but she figured it was secret government business.

But why would _Draco _be working with Harry? Were they partners? Colleagues? Put together to work on the assignment? They _hated _each other in school, but eventually were on friendlier terms when Draco and her were…

She took a gulp of her wine, shaking the thought away. The thought kept returning though, how there were together. Almost two years, two _wonderful _years together. Filled with laughter, happiness, lust, love, passion, and so many memories that would have been memorable but now haunt her. She loved him. He loved her, but perhaps that wasn't enough for him.

He left her. No word, no letter, no words, he just left. Thinking of the night that she noticed he was coming was heart wrenching, and still brought tears to her eyes.

* * *

><p><em>What<em>_'__s __the __difference __if __I __say __I__'__ll __go __away_

_ When I know I'll come back on my knees someday _

_ For whatever my man is I'm his forevermore_

The crowd applauded as she took her only bow of the evening. As she straighten, she scanned the crowds with a forced smile, looking for some sign of Draco. The booths were filled with couples and groups of men conversing with merriment and laughter, no sign of the man that would focus all his attention on her, sometimes so intently that she would blush and feel her body growing hot. But there was no man and no gaze.

She shook her head of her thoughts, and turned her attention back to the standing ovation she was receiving. Curtsying again with a wave and a smile, and made her way off stage. She moved quickly to the dressing room and silently closing the door behind her, leaning against it trying not to let the tears spill from her eyes. With a glance of her mirror she saw herself, her face red, her hair rustled from her quick dash to the room, and her entire body shaking to hold in her emotions.

In a fit of anger she bent down, took off her heeled shoes throwing them to the side, reach up and slipped her earrings up only to throw them at the rug. As she began to take her thick silver bracelet off her small wrist, she slowed her movements to see the dark green-laced ribbon tied to her wrist. She wore it as a sign to Draco to meet her after the show; she's been wearing it for the past four nights with no sign of him.

The tears came, pouring down her face as she sobbed aloud. She sank to the floor, letting her tears come down her cheeks and fall on to her dress. She untied the ribbon and let it fall on her lap, watching as her tears dropped onto it. Everything she thought she knew and believed was shattered like glass. The tears fell and she couldn't breathe, she didn't know what to do, so she sat on the floor and cried to her heart's tragic delight.

* * *

><p>Finishing off her drink she set down the empty glass and went back into her bed, hiding herself beneath the covers. She stared up at the ceiling, feeling a sense of dread as she slowly went off to sleep, tomorrow hovering over her like a dreaded cloud following her.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Songs Used:<strong>

My Man-Billie Holiday


	5. By Any Means

Harry rubbed his hands over his face as he looked over at Draco pacing. They were at his house study waiting for Hermione to go over some of the detail, and she was a little late, only five minutes to be exact.

"Draco, _please,_" Harry begged, aggravated. "You're going to wear out the carpet."

"She should be here by now," he mumbled to himself, completely oblivious to Harry.

"She's barely late, she'll _be _here," he assured him, but knew that wouldn't work.

"You _swear_ my father doesn't know anything?" he asked, narrowing his eyes accusingly.

"Yes," He sighed. "Lucius is still in jail with no connections or knowledge of what's going on."

Draco seemed to be at ease at that, but yet still continued to pace. Harry rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair, leaving the room without glancing at his nervous companion. He made his way through the hall into the sitting room, finding his wife sitting on the window seat reading. Her white blond hair pulled to the side of her face, revealing a long slender neck with a silver necklace with a pendant.

"Draco still pacing a hole in the floor Harry?" Luna asked, not looking up from her book.

"How do you _do _that?" Harry questioned, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You just have that energy my dear," she answered, glancing up with a smile. "Your aura is very distinctive, especially when I can hear that floorboard in the hallway creak."

Harry smiled, walking over to her. She set down her book revealing her rounded stomach, the showed through her patterned wrap dress. He sat down next to her and placed his hand on her stomach running a thumb across the fabric, causing her to smile.

"I _still_ think it's going to be a girl," she said defiantly.

"Nah," Harry scoffed. "It's a boy, he kicks like it."

"Girls are always the kickers," she laughed, holding his hand on her stomach. She took a breath and glanced at him. "Speaking of, do you know where Hermione is? She _is_ alright, is she?"

"Not you too," he moaned, getting up and standing in front of her. "Yes, she's _fine,_Lucius is gone and can't touch her."

"But Harry," Luna said, her face serious. "Draco's father _threatened_ that he would kill her, he has the connections to make that possible. You _really _don't think he's capable of doing that _behind_ bars?"

Harry sighed, starting to pace. "Honestly, I don't know. But your guess as good as mine, and Draco won't tell her, to make her understand, protecting her or something."

"Well, wouldn't you do that for me?"

Harry turned, and knelt down at her feet, taking her hand in his. "You know I would, and especially when you've made me a happy man."

"And father," she reminded him.

He smiled up at her and kissed her stomach. "_Especially _because of that, love."

Luna laughed and opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the doorbell. They both stood up from their positions, Harry helping Luna stand, and made their way to the front door. Hearing rushed footsteps coming the study, Luna rolled her eyes.

"_I_ will get it," she called at Draco, heading to the door.

He stopped and moved to the side to let her through. Harry snickered but stopped seeing Draco glare daggers at him. They stayed in the hallway block by the staircase as they watched Luna stroll to the front door. He could hear Draco take in a sharp breath as he saw the door open and an excited squeal could be heard.

"Oh, Hermione!" Luna cried opening the door wider and embracing her. "It's been too long, I was wondering when I would sense your presence again."

"It's good to see you too, Luna," Hermione answered with a laugh. "And look at _you_, you're gorgeous!"

Luna chuckled closing the door, "You're too kind, but Harry is still with me, so I must not be that _bad_ in the morning."

Hermione laughed as she stepped into the small foyer. Her hair was up in curls supporting a dark tan hat, wearing a form fitting brown dress with yellow flowers adorning the pattern with puff cap sleeves, carrying a small clutch bag. Her smile radiating her face and reaching her eyes as she hugged Luna again. Harry could hear Draco let a sigh of relief as he made his way pass them to greet his friend.

"Mione," he greeted with arms opened. "We were wondering where you went off to."

Hermione smiled, accepting his hug. "It was nice out so I decided to walk instead of taking a cab."

Harry nodded, laughing inside. "Well come into the study, we'll be able to talk there."

"I'll leave you to it then," Luna said heading off towards the kitchen.

They made their way to the study where Draco was finally sitting still. Harry could sense Hermione's tension growing next to him and Draco looking at them in a pained expression, changing the whole atmosphere in mere seconds.

"Alright," Harry interjected angrily. "Put your petty issues aside and let's get to McLaggen."

Hermione shook herself mentally to focus on the task at hand sitting down in a small chair and looking to Harry.

"Want to explain to me what exactly you want me to do?" she question, taking her hat off.

Harry reached across his dress and pulled out a photograph from a pile of papers. "_This,__" _he said handing her the photograph. "Is McLaggen twenty five, blond, at least 6'2, athletic built, and a nasty temper."

"He's completely unreliable as a government official," Draco interjected, sitting up stiffly. "He drinks to much, boasts and is completely oblivious to what's going around him."

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, looking at the photograph instead of at Draco.

Draco sighed. _At __least __she__'__s __answering __me._"If he's drunk he'll begin to shout out how rich he is or what automobile he bought that week, he almost got jumped a couple weeks ago because he was talking along the street where some thugs were together. There was a police officer making his rounds so he got lucky, but honestly he's going to turn up dead in a gutter somewhere."

Hermione nodded her understanding. "In that case, it would be easy to get _anything_ from him."

"Yes and with the right questions we can get what we _need_," answered Harry, rummaging through his papers. "We got you singing at the Hemmenberg Hotel lounge, his usually place tonight. Whenever a new singer comes there, he makes it his duty to…well…"

"Bed the poor woman?" Hermione finished, amused.

Harry nodded. "Do you still want to do this, the man's a cad and—"

"Harry," Hermione said stopping him, a little irritated. "I understand what I'm doing, will you stop protecting me. Yes, I'm a woman but that doesn't mean I'm defenseless."

As if to prove her point she reached into her small purse and pulled out a small revolver, which could fit easily into her small hand. She laughed at their shocked expression, opening the cartridge and closing it again.

"My father got it from me when he heard of the crime in London, it became useful a couple times and I learned how to use it."

"Christ Hermione," Harry laughed. "Alright, never mind then. We either need to find the documents or get him to admit he's involved,"

"By any means?" She asked.

Harry could feel Draco stiffen at her question, but he nodded at her. "If that's what it takes."

* * *

><p>Hermione left after speaking to them for a couple more hours, and as she walked out the door, she breathed a sigh of relief as she breathed in the night air. Fortunately, both Draco and her managed to hold their tongues when they wanted to argue or snap at each other. But the looks that he gave her when he thought she wasn't looking, made old feelings resurface. She was confused and flustered trying to hide it by sipping her tea or clearing her throat.<p>

Many times she found herself looking at him—his face, his hair, his hands, his eyes. They looked haggard and restless, as if the few short years changed him. His clothes were as stylist and formal as the day she met him, but his dark grey suit seemed to be carelessly thrown onto his body. He was quite as they were talking but interjected with his own opinions, which turned out to helpful. Especially when he suggested if she took him to her 'hotel room' they should take a room next door and set up a recording device in case they would miss something or need evidence.

It obviously pained him to suggest it but Harry agreed it would give them concrete information. She herself wasn't up for the thought of sleeping with a drunken womanizer, but if she was creative enough she might not have to.


	6. But What A Lovely Way to Burn

The Hemmenberg Hotel was a very exclusive hotel catering to the rich and well connected. With Draco and Harry being undisclosed men of wealth, advantages of the elite were close at hand. They sat in the corner booth with Luna of the hotel's night lounge, listening to the band play. Harry and Draco dressed in formal black suits while Luna wore a satin bias cut dress with a light blue branch pattern and billowing sleeves, making her look angelic and only slightly showing her rounded stomach. The crowd of formal suits and white dresses were already conversing with excitement, women indulging themselves with champagne and men sipping their brandy. Couples danced to the bands music either playing up with appearances or genuinely enjoying the moment while other groups conversed at the private tables and booths.

From their vantage point they could see McLaggen surrounded by his mates, gazing like salivating dogs at the young woman of the room and drinking excessive amounts of brandy and scotch. Turning away in disgust Harry look towards the stage and the couples dancing. The band began to play 'Naima' catching Harry's attention. It was Luna's favorite song that they played at their wedding. Smiling, he stood up and offered his hand to Luna.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked, smiling down at her.

Grinning happily she stood up and accepted his hand. Hand in hand they made their way to the already occupied dance floor. Giving her a spin, Harry brought his wife close to his body, a hand about her waist with their hands intertwined against his chest. She rested her free hand and head on his shoulder as the slowly dance together.

"You _hate _dancing," she noted.

"But _you_ don't," he answered, into her hair. "And we _did_ dance to this at our wedding."

He felt her chuckle as she lifted her head up. Her small pearl and diamond earrings sparkling like her silver grey eyes.

"You remember," she whispered amazed.

He smiled down at her. "Why, you didn't?"

As she laughed, he bent down and kissed her tenderly. They rested their foreheads together, holding on to each other as they swayed to the music. Looking to the side, Harry stiffened. One of McLaggen's mates turned to speak to a woman passing by, revealing a gun holster in the side of his jacket.

"Luna," Harry started, taking a breath. "If anything happens here, or if I feel like you're in danger, take a cab and go home."

"Harry you're being—" the look on his face stopped her. Filled with love and concern she rested her hand on his cheek, smiling reassuringly. "I understand, but I'm not going to sleep until you come through the front door."

Harry leaned into her hand, smiling. "I'm not leaving you two alone."

Small tears sprang to her eyes as the song ended. They kissed lightly again and made their way back to the table, with Draco formally standing until Luna sat down.

"McLaggen's been easy on the drinks," he reported. "Hopefully he'll be sober enough to meet with Hermione."

"Oh, he will," Luna said smugly. "If her dress doesn't do that then there is something wrong with that man."

Before Draco could inquire anything, the bandmaster spoke up.

"Now, not only do we have a fantastic audience tonight, we have the pleasure of introducing renowned singer and woman: Ms. Hermione Granger!"

The crowd applauded enthusiastically as the lights dimmed, leaving the room in a dark glow with the candles on the table the only light. The slow chords of the bass rang out through the room as a spotlight on the curtain shone revealing a feminine silhouette. The drum symbol joined in and the curtain parted down the middle revealing a _very_ sensual Hermione. Her boat neck sleeveless chiffon dress was a vibrant red that contrasted beautifully with her skin and stood out amongst the white and black. The skirt billowed about her sometimes revealing her silver heeled shoes. Her hair was piled up into a messy bun effortlessly with only a few curled strands left alone, showing her diamond flower drop earrings.

With a slow walk she made her way to the front of the stage, and reaching the microphone she began to sing, captivating every eye in the room.

_Never know how much I love you, never know how much I care._

_When you put your arms around me I give you fever that's so hard to bear._

_You give me…fever when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight_

_Fever, in the morning, fever all through the night_

As she sang, her body swayed to the music and sometimes brushed her hands against her body provocatively. Draco tried not to stare at her but he couldn't help it, his lust for this woman grew the more he saw her. The months they spent together, loving each other and being happy with another slowly crept into his mind.

_Sun lights up the daytime, moon lights up the night_

_I light up when you call my name and you know I'm gonna treat you right_

_You give me fever when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight_

_Fever, in the morning, fever all through the night_

He knew she wouldn't glance in their direction longer than a few seconds; tonight she played the sophisticated siren, focused on one man.

_Everybody's got the fever that is something you all know_

_Fever isn't such a new thing, fever start long ago_

_Romeo love Juliet, Juliet she felt the same_

_When he put his arms around her he said Julie baby your my flame_

_Now give me fever when were kissin, fever with that flame in you_

_Fever…I'm a fire, fever yeah I burn for you._

McLaggen was eating it up with every word she sang. Draco felt his hands go numb as he clenched them against the table, the looks McLaggen were vile and repulsive and he had half a mind to walk up and hit that smug smile off his face. He felt a soft hand close over his clenched one. Turning he saw Luna, bravely smiling at him. He nodded at her, breathed a frustrated sigh and turned back to the stage.

_Captain Smith and Pocahontas had a very mad affair_

_ When her daddy tried to kill him she said daddy oh don't you dare_

_He gives me fever with his kisses, fever when he holds me tight_

_Fever…I'm his misses daddy won't you treat him right?_

Hermione's heart was thundering against her chest. Yes, she's done this a thousand times, but the stares she was getting from McLaggen made her want to run off and bathe. As she slowly looked through the crowd and away from her 'ogling' of the disgusting dog, her eyes fell upon Draco. Her heart pained at the sight of him, his face looked tormented and even Luna's comforting hand wouldn't deter him. When he stared back up at the stage, she couldn't help but be comforted and her nerves soothed. Like he always did.

Shallowly her pride she sang to him instead.

_Now you listened to my story here's the point that I have made_

_Chicks were born to give you fever, be it fair and have a sense of game _

_They give you fever when you kiss them, fever if you really learned_

_Fever…till you sizzle but what a lovely way to burn _

_What a lovely way to burn _

_What a lovely way to burn _

_But what a lovely way to burn _

The crowd applauded strongly as the last notes rang out through the room. With a sigh of relief she acknowledge the band, feeling the disgusting stare of McLaggen diminishing as she felt Draco's present about her. Smiling back at the audience, like an actress she winked at McLaggen and, like a lost lover, she smiled down at Draco, who in turn smiled sadly at her.

Mustering every smidge of stamina she had left, she began her next song.

* * *

><p><strong>Songs Used:<strong>

Fever-Michael Buble/Peggy Lee


	7. Fever

**Forgive the delay, it's vacation and vacation is a time for oversleeping and eating too much. Hopefully, I'll pick it up and get a sudden burst of writer's frenzy. **

* * *

><p>Hermione sat in front of her vanity taking out her earrings and waiting for the inevitable. Ms. Parvati Patil, her dresser provided by the hotel, just informed her that 'a Mister McLaggen wishes to meet with the misses.' She, of course, allowed him to come into her dressing room. She had a lump in her throat, wishing she didn't have to do this but if she played him well enough she wouldn't have to do anything with him. Shaking her head, she turned back to the task at hand, appearing effortlessly alluring. When she removed her final earring and began to remove her hairpins, she heard her door open. In the mirror's reflection she saw Parvati poke her head around the door.<p>

"Mr. McLaggen ma'am," she said politely.

She nodded her consent through her reflection, focusing on her hand. Parvati disappeared around the door and it opened wider revealing Cormac McLaggen. He wore a formal black and white suit, pressed to perfection with mother-of-pearl cuff links shining proud. His dusty blond hair greased back away from his clean arrogant looking face, which held a Casanova smile as the deep V-neck of her dress greeted him, revealing her backside.

"Thank you Parvati, will you make sure my driver picks me up at the stage door tonight please?"

"Yes ma'am" she answered closing the door.

McLaggen smile grew as he looked at her in the mirror, looking at her with a gaze that made her skin crawl.

"I must say," he began, his voice dripping with charm. "You are just as beautiful off stage as you are on."

Hermione chuckled sweetly, setting down a few pins. "Aren't _you_ the charmer,"

"I have been called that, but I have failed to introduce myself," he gave a slight bow to her back. "I am Cormac McLaggen, a _gentleman_ of society."

She bit the scoff that tried to irrupt from her mouth, and instead took the last pin out of her hair, letting it fall down in loose curls, and turned around to face him holding out her hand. "Hermione Granger,"

He smiled cheekily and kissed her fingers but not letting go. Looking at her eyes from his position above her hand, he winked at her. "You _were_ quite amazing tonight."

She gave him a smoldering smile, "I'm glad that you could take the time to see my lowly show seeing as you're a gentleman of society."

"For a voice like yours?" he kissed her hand again, a little longer this time. "I _make_ the time."

She faked a chuckle as she stood up and taking her hand back from his grasp. "I _am_sorry but I am in a bit of a rush, would you mind if I change behind the screen as we converse?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but her suggestion didn't faze him. "Not at all."

"Thank you," she replied sweetly, hoping he was the pervert she though he was. "So may I ask as to what brings you to see me in my room tonight?"

She went behind the dressing screen that stood in the corner diagonally from her vanity. Of course, normally a person couldn't see her but a floor length mirror placed in the corner was purposely placed to reveal everything behind the screen. It didn't faze Hermione that she went to this low, but men were men, they were _easily_ manipulated. And McLaggen was no different, if not easy.

She heard McLaggen sit down in the chair next to the door, which gave him a perfect vantage point. She faced away from the mirror, and coolly unbuttoned the back of her dress.

"I, um…" she heard him start, coughing a bit, "I was curious if you would like to accompany me to dinner some night?"

She pulled her arms out of the sleeves. "Will I be your only company for the evening?"

"Uh…no" he said, watching her reflection's dress fall up pool at her feet and revealing her half-naked form. "It is with a few gentlemen and their wives, a business dinner of sorts."

Bending over she picked up her fallen dress dusting off the imaginary lint. "Would I know them?"

"Perhaps," he said, angling his head to look her lingerie clad bum. "If you come you might recognize them from the papers."

"Oh," she exclaimed, clipping her strapless bra over her breasts. "Is that suppose to sway my decision? That you are infatuated with important people?"

"It might," he said, crossing his legs to hide his ache. "They have heard you sing and would enjoy meeting you."

She slowly began to unbutton the button from her dark blue wrap dress, hanging from the screen. "When would this dinner be?"

"This Thursday evening," he answered, admiring her side silhouette.

She pulled the dress off the hanger and slip in on about her, fastening the buttons as she step out of her shoes and into her white and tan day shoes. "It just so happens that I'm free that evening, I don't preform until Friday evening."

"So you accept?"

She finally stepped out from behind the screen, smiling at him. "I might…but seeing as I don't _truly_know you I have half a mind to decline."

He grinned as his gaze followed her to her vanity picking up her clutch and placing a few articles into it. "And the other half?"

She glanced at him through the mirror. "I also have half a mind, to accept and enjoy your company."

He grinned cheekily as he stood up. "Well, as a sign of good faith, may a gentleman escort you to your car?"

He offered an arm, which she glanced at with a small sniff.

"You said you were a gentleman?"

"I would love to show you first hand."

Closing her clutch she turned to him and smiled as she slip her grey tweed coat on. "I guess walking to my car wouldn't hurt."

"That's the ticket," he exclaimed proudly, taking her arm and leading her out of the room.

They walked silently down the hallway, seeing as it was too loud to even hear the other speak. It was a short walk to get to the backstage door and as he held open the door her driver was standing next to the parked Studebaker. McLaggen stopped before her and took her hand in his.

He brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "I'll meet you at the Jacobson hotel at seven?"

She grinned. "I still haven't agreed, Mr. McLaggen."

"Cormac," he insisted. "Well, I can wager that you will."

She smirked, "What's the wager?"

"Another dinner after Thursday," he smiled, smugly.

Hermione smiled, thinking it over, "You'll just have to see then, won't you?"

Turning away, she strolled over to her car, as her driver opened the back seat car door, bowing to her as she slide gracefully in the vehicle. Walking to the car door, Cormac stopped him.

"Mind sweet talking her into going?"

The driver's hat covered his eyes, which hid his piercing gaze as he stared daggers at him. "I do not _sway_Ms. Granger in her endeavors sir, good _night.__"_

Brushing past him, he made his way to his side, shutting the door with a slam and turning on the car in a huff. They drove out of the alley and into the street, blending in with the ongoing traffic. The driver pulled off his hat and shook out his white blond.

"Bloody bastard…sweet talking…" Draco mumbled to himself, turning down a street.

Hermione bit her lip from laughing. "He wants me to meet with him and the Jacobson on Thursday."

Draco glanced at her through the rear view mirror, "Will it just be…"

"Us?" she finished looking out the window. "No, government officials and their wives but he didn't say who."

"Got to start somewhere," he sighed.

There was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever as they drove through the street, headlights from passing cars lighting the car and casting dark shadows. Glancing at Draco through the mirror, she saw only his eyes, looking tired and strained like the last few times she saw him. Her heart gave an ache at seeing him like this, but she turned away staring out the window at the passing buildings.

They continued to ride in silence as the drove into the heart of the city, towards the hotel. They both glanced at each other through the mirror, neither catching the other's gaze. Thoughts raced through their heads, each wanting to say something but neither could say anything.

So they rode in silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Songs Used:<strong>

Fever (Instrumental)-Michael Buble


	8. All Around a PugNosed Dream

**Sorry for the delay, winter break can do that for a person. Thanks for the reviews and comments, keep 'em coming!**

* * *

><p>Thursday night came quickly and soon Draco was driving Hermione to the hotel. The air was tense which didn't help Hermione with her nerves. She fiddled with the skirt of her black satin halter dress, watching the evening life pass by the window. Draco was also battling his own nerves, clutching the steering wheel so that the tops of his knuckles turned white. The closer they were from the hotel the more he wanted to turned around and drive off at high speeds, but he continued to drive stealing looks at Hermione through the mirror.<p>

"I'll be there tonight, if anything goes wrong—"

"I _know _what to do," she snapped glaring at him from her seat.

He turned his attention back to the streets, the silence even more uneasy as before. Hermione looked at the window, ashamed at her actions towards him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, just barely enough so that he could hear her. "Its just…McLaggen is as vile as they come, and I'm not looking forward to spending the night with him."

Draco nodded his agreement. "Anything happens that you don't...just…you don't _have_ to do this Granger."

At the sound of her last name, once said in the most affectionate way, she made herself not look at him. "I know, but I _want_ to, many lives are at risked."

"Yours is the only one at risk," he answered, protectively.

She said nothing as she stared out the window. They soon pulled into the front drive of the hotel, lit by gas lamps and bright electric lights. Draco parked the car, and stepped out to open the door for her. Wrapping her simple black velvet and white satin lined wrap loosely around her and holding her clutch she took ahold of Draco's offered hand and gracefully stepped out of the Studebaker.

Holding her hand a bit longer, he whispered, "Be careful."

She opened her mouth to reply but caught sight of McLaggen in the doorway, his arrogant smile proud upon his face. She flirtatious smiled back before turning to Draco.

"A gun is strapped to my thigh," she whispered, her cheeks slightly blushing at her boldness, "_He_ better be careful."

She could hear him snicker as she moved towards the entrance, which made her secretly proud that she could still make him laugh. McLaggen broke her thoughts as he walked to meet her, his hands folded neatly behind his back and dressing in a new clean black tuxedo. Lifting her hand to him, he took it and kissed it.

"I'm glad that you accepted my invitation," he said looking up from her hand.

"It's not in my nature to leave men waiting," she said, silently wishing for her hand back.

He chuckled, thankfully letting go of her hand, then revealed what he concealed behind his back—a large square velvet jewelry box. Hermione glanced at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Do you give gifts to all your dates or am I the lucky one?"

He smiled, lifting his free hand to open the lid, "I do believe I am the lucky one tonight."

'You keep telling yourself that,' she thought, and then faking a surprised gasp her eyes fell upon a pearl-layered necklace of various sizes kept together with a diamond branch brooch. In her opinion, yes, it was pretty but very obnoxious, especially if he assumed she would wear it for the entire evening. Which she assumed correct.

Taking the necklace out of the box, he walked around her and brought the necklace up and over her hair, fastening the heavy piece as he whispered into her ear.

"This necklace is as beautiful as you are tonight," he said, what he figured what was suppose to be in a seductive town.

She glanced over her shoulder, looking bashful. "It's gorgeous, but it's too much, I can't accept it."

"You can and you will," he insisted, as he moved to face her again. "Because it looks better around your neck then in the window."

She smiled and allowed him to lead her into the hotel, with her hand wrapped around the crook of his arm. Like the Hemmenberg, it was filled with London's rich and elite, decorated with dark red and white colors invoking a sense of class where only spoiled pretenders could spend hours upon hours drinking expensive champagne and alcohol with delectable appetizers passed around them by waiters in white. The piano player played on the stage with a slow saxophone and bass playing along with them. The tables were dressed in pristine tablecloths, china and silver with flowers and candles decorating atop the tables, placed in an oval with the band's stage at the head across from the room's entrance.

McLaggen led her towards the floor, where the tables were filled with people chatting animatedly. He stopped in front of a table already filled with three couples.

"Ms. Hermione Granger," he announced. "This is Amycus Carrow and his sister Alecto,"

Their look of evaluation over her had a sibling similarity but definitely _not_ in the way they dressed. While Amycus wore a black suit with a rounded bow tie, his sister wore a very provocative dress, with a deep V-neck that revealed her middle chest and stomach through sequined skin-colored fabric bordered in diamonds.

"Bartemious Crouch Sr.," he continued gesturing towards the Carrow siblings' left, "and his son, Bartemious Crouch _Jr_."

Senior only glanced at her with a nod and without a care, but the look Junior gave her was enough to send shivers up her spin and bile to rise up her throat.

"And this is Thomas Marvolo Riddle and Ms. Bellatrix Lestrange."

This couple would be the couple that would make any child run screaming if they approached them on the street. Riddle was dressed in his finest tux with his hair slicked back and his smile that reminded her of a cat watching a mouse from its' perch. His companion, looking at her with narrowed eyes, and wore a black satin dress that covered her arms and neck tightly with a gold sequined dragon embroidered on her front.

"Please to meet you all," Hermione said as McLaggen pulled out her chair for her to sit.

"Pleasure is all ours," Crouch Jr. replied, raising his glass to her with a sickening smile.

"What is it that you do, Ms. Granger?" Alecto asked, folding her hands with her elbows on the table, eyeing her critically.

"I sing," she answered proudly. "And may I ask what you do?"

Alecto smiled, "I bathe in the wealth of my deceased husbands riches."

Hermione smiled back at her, "We all need to make a living some how."

Crouch Jr. chuckled to himself, "I heard you sing Ms. Granger, at the Ol' Haunt on main, quite spectacular if I do say so."

"Thank you Mr. Crouch, but I believe you over exaggerate in your opinions," she said, chuckling, nodding to the waiter as he set a fluke of champagne in front of her.

"Like me, Barty tells it the way he sees it," McLaggen said, sipping a cup of brandy the waiter left him.

"Especially when it comes to women like yourself," Crouch agreed,

"Oh please Crouch," Bellatrix sneered, her voice quite proper but dripping with distant, "You're like that with _any_ woman."

"A man that a woman must keep her eye on, wouldn't you say Ms. Lestrange?" Hermione asked, eyeing her with a grin.

Bellatrix eyed her, with dark eyes searching for a weakness that might appear on her face. The look was a little unnerving but Hermione refused to look away, keeping eye contact with the dark woman across the table.

"Perhaps," she said, reaching up a hand to stroke the top of Riddle's hand. "But only a woman such as yourself would have to worry about someone like that."

Hermione couldn't help but smile with glee at the thought of having to use her sharp tongue against the possessive woman. Riddle sat there motionless as his madame trailed her long nails against his pale skin, basking in the battle of wits between the two women with interest.

"I would think that you're speaking from experience, Ms. Lestrange, a woman of your _advance _knowledge, meeting men _must_ be an frequent occurrence for you,"

Amycus and Alecto laughed enthusiastically at what she was insinuating, along with McLaggen and the Crouchs. Riddle was looking at Hermione with a searching look with an engrossed face, while his companion stared at her with a look of anger and wrath.

"Don't look so surprise, Bellatrix," Amycus said, his laughter still evident in his voice. "A little verbal sparing with a lady you're not familiar with is good for someone bad-tempered as you."

Huffing, Bellatrix finished off her drink then turned back to her, "I hope you speak as well as you sing Ms. Granger, I'll be sure to make the effort to listen."

"Only if you have the heart to he," she replied.

With a death glare from Bellatrix, the men dominated the conversation by talking business. It was of no interest to what Hermione wanted to hear from them, they gossiped like a group of women in the powder room. They laughed over obvious fools in positions they obvious _weren't_ meant to have, as well as their overall morals which in her own opinion were better than the present company she was with. It felt like they didn't know anything about the stolen plans, but obviously they wouldn't speak of it in such a public place with unknown company around them.

"Excuse me miss?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder and practically jumped out of her seat. Standing behind her dressed in a white tuxedo and black tie, looking as elegant and handsome as the day they met, was Draco.

"If it's all right with your friend, would you like to dance?"


	9. Polka Dots and Moonbeams

**Thank you for the Reviews! If you keep reviewing, I'll keep writing!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Hermione could feel confusion and rage etched against her face but taking a silent breath, her face relaxed and she looked up at him with a flirtatious look.<p>

"I'm sorry sir, but seeing as my own escort hasn't dance with me I see it as imprudent," as she said it she could feel McLaggen's eyes watch them both.

He gave her a slow smile that made her go weak in the knees, "Well not to be rude, but if he hasn't ask you yet then it's _his_ mistake. But as sign of no hard feelings, I'll gladly buy him a drink for second place."

She pretended to bite back a laugh as Draco offered a hand to help her up. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw McLaggen eye Draco with distant over his offer over his property. Feeling bold she rubbed her hand over McLaggen's thigh provocatively, to give him a sense that there's nothing to worry about. As he turned to face her she focused her attention back on Draco, smiling when she noticed the jealous look that Draco was giving the both of them.

"One dance won't hurt, I suppose," she said, slipping her hand into Draco's offered one.

Draco smiled gratefully at her but then more wickedly at McLaggen as he lifted her from her chair, "I'll be sure to bring her back so you can try to make up for lost time."

Before McLaggen could get a word in edge wise, Draco walked her over to the floor as the band began playing again. He brought her into the small crowd of couples, away from McLaggen's death glare that he had on Draco. He wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and took her free hand in his, all the while keeping a respectable distance from each other, and began to dance to the music.

"What the _bloody_ _hell_ do you think you're doing?" she hissed at him as she put her hand on his shoulder, still keeping a calm flirty façade, as to not arise suspicion.

"Getting McLaggen riled so he'll start downing drinks," he said, turning her to look over at her escort. "See?"

True to his plan, McLaggen seemed to be inhaling his liquor like air after a drowning.

"And drunk men always talk too much when they get a bit tipsy," she said nodding her understanding.

"Especially when a beautiful woman has been snatched by someone other than themselves,"

Hermione snapped her head to him and glared at him, "_Don't_."

Draco looked at her, staring deep into her eyes, "Hermione there's something you—"

"Go to hell," she spat, keeping a smile as she was facing her table. "There is nothing on this earth that would get me to listen to a _bastard_ like you,"

Draco's demeanor changed then—his face fell with a look of guilt and grief, like something haunting him. It made her a bit guilty seeing that she was the one that caused the emotions to fall across his face. She didn't care though, she wanted to ask him 'why'—why would he do such an awful thing if he claimed to love her? Why, after all this time, would he come back to ask for her help? And why, God above, _why_ did she agree to help him? But biting her tongue, she looked away just as he did, dancing in silence.

The floor was now a bit crowded now and to avoid bumping into other couples they had to dance closer together, so that they were almost in a compromising yet intimate dancing position. Hermione's chin could barely rest upon his shoulder and she could feel his light cool breathe against her bare skin. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder, lean into his embrace and forget what happened between them but her stubbornness got the better of her. Although, she couldn't help but be thrilled about being in a secretive and dangerous situations as she danced with Draco, however, things like this could only happen in the books or in silent films. She would _never_ forgive him.

The sax suddenly filled her the room as she was brought out of her contemplations, making her familiar with the song for the first time in years.

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><p><em>It was a rare occasion for Hermione to be in a lounge where she<em> wasn't_ singing. Her voice was sore and needed to give it a few days before she could sing again. She was at the Hickory, known for it's soft music and relaxing atmosphere and one of her first singing venues that still have been good to her. The owner, Neville Longbottom, was a school friend of hers and when he heard that she could sing he let her sing a few songs to get started. Since then she always made it a priority to sing in the pub whenever Neville needed to fill in the silence with something other than a piano, a sax or a bass. Tonight was soothing, Dean Thomas was on the sax playing his heart out like every night and Justin Finch-Fletchley was playing his piano._

_She sipped her tea and let it warm her just like she let the music fill her up and relax her. There was something about jazz that relaxed her and made her forget about the troubling things came with her day. The deep sounds that came from the stage spread throughout the room and washed over her with a content hum that sent shivers up her spine._

_"Feeling better?"_

_She smiled up at Draco as he sat down next to her. "Music_ always _makes me feel better,"_

_Draco returned her smile as lifted his free hand to his lips, "That I know."_

_Hermione gave him a knowing look as she watching him kiss her hand, "Your pride is overwhelming, Draco,"_

_Still holding her hand he leaned over to kiss her cheek, then trailed the tip of his nose to her ear, "And your stubbornness resembles that of a mule, love,"_

_Despite the heat that went through her body at the intimate, arousing gesture, she slapped her free hand against his chest._

_'"Honestly Draco," she said disapprovingly, "Aren't you suppose to be a gentleman?"_

_"What ever gave you that idea?" he asked mockingly._

_She couldn't help but smile at his tone. Sipping her tea she turned back to the stage as the band finished their piece, applauding with the crowd once it was done. Draco rested his arm along the back of her chair, smiling at his company as he gazed upon her. She was dressed in a black and tan lace sleeveless dress that was cinched in the middle and fanned out beautiful to below her knees, showing her long gracefully legs. Her arms were bare, revealing her smooth fair skin with her right wrist adorning her green ribbon bracelet. Despite the dim smoking lighting in the air her face glowed with a calm excitement she always had, which in turn made her brown eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. She was ten pounds of excitement in a five pound bag he always said as a way to describe her, but that was what intrigued him, one of many things that got him to fall in love with her._

_He couldn't exactly remember when they became closer than friends but he never fret about it, and instead lived in it. With him working and her singing her nights away it wasn't easy for them to be together, but they made time—her signaling with her bracelet or a quick note attached to a wildflower from him. It was blissful let frustrating especially when they couldn't meet for days at a time or when they fought. Their last spat left them angry at each other for weeks, and he spent his nights watching her sing looking for her bracelet. When he didn't see it he still stayed and watched but felt like his heart fell to his stomach like a rock._

_Shaking the thought out of his head he stood up as the trio began to a slow number he recognized as one of her favorites. As he offered his hand, she broke out of her train of thought looking at his hand confused._

_"_Polka Dots and Moonbeams_," he answered to her confused look._

_Looking to the stage and listening to the music, she laughed embarrassed. Then glancing to his hand, she accepted it and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. He brought her close to his body and smiled as she buried her face into his chest embarrassed._

_"At least_ someone _can remember the little details," he teased, nuzzling against her hair. "What are you thinking about?"_

_"Nothing really," she said lifting her head up to look at him. "Just happy, I guess,"_

_"Hmm, well I hope you are," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers, "Because I'm happy to be with you just for a few moments like this."_

_She smiled happily, giving him a chaste kiss upon his lips._

_"I—"_

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><p>"Do you remember?"<p>

Draco's voice brought her out of her memory quite suddenly; she could practically feel her tears dry up at his voice.

"Remember what?" She asked, swallowing her emotions that threatened to erupt from her.

He turned his head to her, and then whispering in her he sang softly in his deep low voice:

_There were questions in the eyes of other dancers as we floated over the floor_

_There were questions, but my heart knew all the answers and perhaps a few things more  
><em>

_Now in a cottage built of lilacs and laughter I know the meaning of the words "ever after"_

_And I'll— _

"Stop," she managed to say as tears cornered her eyes. "Just stop _please, _you…_why_ are you doing this to me?"

"Because I—"

"Can I cut in?"

Turning around, they saw that the commanding voice belonged to McLaggen, looking quite red in the face.

_Thank _God, Hermione thought to herself, as she smiled to McLaggen _I had enough heartache for one night._

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><p><strong>Songs Used:<strong>

Polka Dots and Moonbeams-Ella Fitzgerald/Wes Montgomery


	10. There Were Questions

**Sorry for the late update, I have stories running through my head like a marathon. I might update my stories by weeks to give me a break.**

**I also want to thank CrunchyMunchers for reviewing every chapter, it like a surprise gift on Christmas! Thanks again **

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><p>Draco finished off his bourbon as he waited for McLaggen to join him. From the mirror above the bar he could see McLaggen hands getting to close for comfort on Hermione's body, for <em>his<em> comfort at least. It was a great risk for him to approach her, but as observed the group it was obvious that they weren't saying what needed to be said. It seemed simple to get him to speak to a complete stranger than a group of familiar people over something important while drinking copious amounts of liquor.

The song ended and McLaggen led a smiling Hermione to her seat, and then made his way to bar with a satisfied smirk beaming across his face.

"I'll take that drink now," he said smugly, as he slid onto the bar stool next to Draco. He gestured to the bar tender, "An empty glass and a bottle of your most expensive scotch."

Draco smirked, "_That's_ how you accept a free drink,"

"You offered," he said, grinning to himself as he poured himself his drink. Downing it in one gulp, he offered a hand to Draco, "McLaggen, Cormac McLaggen."

"Jonathon Collins," Draco answered, shaking his hand. "Sorry to move in on your girl there, she was one bird I _wasn't_ going to miss dancing with."

McLaggen waved his hand dismissively, "As look as she's with me at the end of the night, I'm fine with it,"

Draco forced a smile, "Where'd you meet a fine female like that?"

"The Hemmenberg," he answered, grinning to himself. "She was singing like a sex-crave minx."

Draco had to bite his tongue to resist the urge to introduce McLaggen's face to his hand. "Really? What's her name again?"

"Hermione Granger, heard of her?" he answered, taking another gulp of his drink.

"Yeah, I think so, nice voice, good stage presence,"

"_Bloody_ amazing body," McLaggen moaned into his glass.

Draco gritted his teeth and nodded his agreement. "That a fact?"

"Oh mate, you can only imagine, we were in her dressing room see? And she was changing behind the screen but she didn't realize that the mirror in the corner showed _everything_!"

"Everything?" he questioned, trying to control his anger and perhaps his jealously from becoming too apparent.

"Every little bit of flesh on her gorgeous body!" he said filling his cup a little below the brim.

"Guess you got a keeper than," he stated, gesturing with his glass to the bar tender for a refill. "So what do you do? Are you in the entertainment business too?"

"_Hell_ no," he replied; now acting like a blubbering drunk. "I work in the Defense Office, you know the _big_ stuff"

Draco gave a low whistle, "I'd kill for a cushy job like that. I work in accounting, pays well but honestly not much excitement compared to a government job."

"It's alright…if you like paperwork, but Riddle over there promised me a different job, one that would be 'worth my while'"

"What kind of job would be that? Escorting the Queen mum to tea?"

"One involving _money_," he answered happily, his red cheeks becoming more dominant as he smiled. "Money that I could _swim_ in, and more you could make in you life!"

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Wow, what would you need to do?"

"Oh, I can't say anything! Cause it's a secret!" He exclaimed.

"How secretive?"

"_Very_," he stage whispered, "We already get lots of secretive deals that we have to take care of, but it's all _safe, _but Riddle's always working on something."

"Is he working on anything now?" he asked casually.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked leaning in close to him. "He told me that he says that it involves…his plan contains some _very_ special documents!"

"What kind of documents?" Draco asked, getting annoyed now at the drunk.

"Can't say, secret!" He downed the last of the scotch and stood up, swaying a bit. "Now I am going to minx with the dance, thanks for the scotchbuddy!"

With a loud slap on the back, McLaggen turned and made his way back to his table, staggering and shuffling around the other tables.

Draco huffed; downing what was left over from his drink. That was a waste of time and energy, the only thing Draco figured out for himself was that McLaggen couldn't hold his scotch so he would have to try something less strong next time. So he _was _involved with secret deals involving the government and with that Riddle fellow, it wasn't much to go off of but at least Draco figured that McLaggen knew something of it and he might be able to use that later.

Glancing into the Bar's mirror, he caught sight of McLaggen and Hermione standing up. From their facial expression and gestures it seems that they were living, and the way McLaggen's hands seemed to have a perverted mind of their own, suggested their were leaving together. He nodded to the bar tender who gave a curt nod in understanding. Draco quickly left without drawing attention to himself, despite his now long stride and angered look decorating his face. It was obvious what was going to happen next and he was going to be involved whether he's asked to or not.

Hermione forced a smile as she slide into the seat of her car with McLaggen sliding in next to her. Despite McLaggen obvious drunken state, she suggested seductively that they should spend the remainder of the night at his home. Happy to oblige, he made foolish excuses as he bid his company goodnight and escorted her out of the hotel with only a little shuffle in his step.

As he closed the door, he wraps an arm around the back of the seat to look at her.

"You vere amazing tonight," he said, slurring his words a bit.

Hermione let out a giggle sarcastically. "Thank you, you were _quite_ the gentleman tonight."

"I was wasn't I?" he thought aloud, a stupid grin plastered across his face, the car pulling quickly into traffic. "You should feel lucky tonight, you get to be with a gent like me,"

"Yes…" she answered nodding her head, starting to search through her small bag. "Being with a drunk half the night _definitely_ makes me a happy woman."

"I gave you –at necklace," he said hiccupping, "Looks better on –oo than it did on that Parkinson gal,"

"Oh did it know?" she questioned absentmindedly, smiling when she found the small rectangular case.

"Yeah, that…pug faced bi…"

McLaggen slumped into the corner of the seat, snoring obnoxiously. Confused at the sudden silence, Draco glanced into the rearview mirror under the brim of his drivers' cap. Hermione held her hand tightly around McLaggen's arm and in her other was a small syringe that appeared to be empty.

"Bloody hell Hermione! What the hell—?"

"I'm not spending the entire ride listening to his drunk dribble," she said setting the syringe back into his case. "And besides, it's only a mild sedative, he'll wake up by morning."

"Uh-huh," Draco answered skeptically, "And how do you expect us to get him into his house?"

"'Us'_?_ What do you mean 'us'_? You_ can do the heavy lifting, that's the least you can do while I look through his house."

"Wait—_what_? You're not staying with him!"

"I don't think you have any say in the matter," she said shoving McLaggen legs to give her room, "And it might be unusual for a _driver_ searching through his desk drawers,"

"I don't care, you're not going to stay with that…sexist _drunk_,"

"I can take care of myself, thank you," she sniffed, "You lost the right to care for me _years_ ago."

Draco gripped the steering wheel at the sting of her word. "What exactly are you going to do?"

Hermione glanced at him through his mirror. Her lips pressed into a tight line as her eyes glanced at him quickly and then back out the window, refusing to answer him. He let out a frustrated sigh and drove in silence, irritated by her stubbornness. He figured she could be at least civil to him considering they would be working closely together, but he should be at least thankful that she's acknowledging him to begin with.

He deserved it though and took it like a silent penance; one that he believed would never be lifted. He didn't deserve to be around her after everything he put her through. And after making one mistake after another, saying and doing the wrong thing, he believed that she was better off without him. He made so many mistakes in his past, he was amazed he didn't repulse Hermione the first time they met. She was kind and sweet and wouldn't even let him go through the self-loathing process of despising himself.

"_Who bloody cares what you did in your past?" _she said angrily one night._ "The next day begins and ends with you being strong enough to keep your head up and get off your high horse!"_

"_You don't know what the fuck I had to go through to be—"_

"_Bollocks!" _she exclaimed, rather loudly_, "You don't think hundreds of people had it worst than you? Orphans that have nothing to eat, mothers that lost husbands and sons in the war, and woman that are getting hit by the people they love…you had a past, everyone in the world does, and if you can't learn from it and move on...then maybe you should start."_

That was another reason he fell hard for her, she was out-spoken and cared for people that needed it. Then the one time he was supposed to return the favor he left her. Alone with no one to help her get through it…

"_Damn it_," he thought, "_Why did you do this? You left her and you ruin any chance you had with her._ You _should be the one dead in a ditch somewhere_,"

"Malfoy!"

Draco jumped out of his thoughts to see Hermione glaring at him through his mirror.

"You missed the turn!"

He said nothing but continued to drive, anticipating what _else_ was going to happen tonight.


	11. Take It All

Once McLaggen was brought into the house and thrown onto his bed, Hermione made quick work of his clothes. As soon as an article left his body she threw it casually over her shoulder around his bedroom. She stripped him of his undershirt and of his underwear briefs, and when she caught sight of the man's knob she couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't as…impressive compared to his reputation. She left his sock with his garters only to portray a frantic romp between lovers. When she threw the covers over him, she heard several desk drawers slam down the hall. Sighing angrily, she took her heels off and made her way down the hall towards the small staircase where McLaggen's study was right across from

The desk faced the window and was flanked by two bookcases with another one covering at least the half side of the wall. Glancing at them only briefly, Hermione noticed that most of them have never been touch and haven't had a good dusting in ages. The rugs, lined against the wall leaving half a foot of hard wood floor visible but then covered by a similar square rug in the middle, were rich in red coloring and looked almost new. It seemed as though he only used this room for the sake of the desk that, by standing in the doorway, she could see Draco standing next to searching through the papers that littered the desk.

"Draco!" she hissed, "You're not suppose to make it look like a robbery!"

"Calm down and get over here, I think I found something,"

With a groan she made his way over to his side standing a considerable distance away from him but close enough to see what was in his hands. It was a memo of sorts given to McLaggen by Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Defense, with CONFIDENTIAL stamped in red in the right corner.

Dear Mr. Cormac McLaggen,

It has come to my attention that certain files have been misplaced from their corrective file placement. These files were supposed to be under lock and key in the privacy of the vault near your office. We suspect that they were missing between the beginning and end of the second week in April Nineteen Thirty-Three. They are as follows:

-File No. 345-6732

-File No. 326-6732

-File No. 327-6732

We request that you attended the meeting we have arranged for this Friday, April twenty third, along with the other Members of Defense to control the situation. Please be punctual, and hopefully with everyone's cooperation we will easily fix this drawback.

Sincerely,

Cornelius Fudge

Minister of Defense of Britain

Hermione frowned at the letter, fingering the heavy necklace around her neck, "Well, Fudge knew that the files were missing, he could have suspected McLaggen but meeting him last night…it didn't seem that there was anything that would suggest otherwise."

"He might suspect but he could just be trying to play the part before they convict him," Draco answered, setting the paper down and looking through the next pile. "It could just be a ruse to get him to confess."

"Maybe," she said absentmindedly, looking through McLaggen's bookcase and fingering the necklace in thought.

Draco glanced up from the papers and looked at her across the desk, eyeing the necklace she touched delicately.

"Why are you still wearing that necklace? Why _should_ you wear his necklace?"

Hermione turned to him with her eyes narrowing at him, "I'm deceiving him and keeping up appearances, of _course_ I'll wear his necklace."

"But you don't even care for…gaudy things like that."

"I _lied_, every woman loves jewelry," she hissed at him. "But why would you even care? I believe that remembering things like what jewelry I like would be wasted on you,"

He slammed the papers down on the desk and then leaned his fist against the table. "What the _hell _is that suppose to mean?"

She spun away from the books to glare at him. "Are you that daft? _You_ left _me_. No letter, no call, not even a word to my face. I look for you for two weeks before I gave up and realized you weren't coming back. And now you think you have the _audacity_ to question my actions towards yourself.

She scoffed at him, staring in disbelief. "Do you have…_any _idea what you did to me? What you made me feel? After almost a year of living with each other, enjoying each other's company and making…" Tears cornered her eyes. "Making love...you left, not me. So don't you _dare_ think that I'm the fault at here, because all I see is a pathetic arse that doesn't have the gall to speak to a woman to her face about leaving her."

She made to turn and leave the room but Draco slammed his fist on the desk causing her to jump and stay where she was.

"You have NO right to say that to me!" he yelled and turning towards her. "You don't know what events called me to—"

"'What events c_alled_ you'?" she exclaimed, laughing sarcastically at him. "Did someone hold a knife to your throat and force you to leave? No, you were just a prat that string women along for your own entertainment…"

Draco stood there watching as tears trailed down her cheeks. He desperately wanted to say everything to her—his father, the threat, the ring, how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her—but he couldn't. His father was behind bars but he was well connected within the crime world, one word and she could still be in grave danger. She deserved to know, but her safety was more important…even if it killed her and him in the process.

At his silence, she rushed out of the room leaving him standing with his own thoughts. Making her way to McLaggen's bedroom she closed the door and leaned her back against it. Tears were pouring out of her eyes, so she looked up to the ceiling and breathed deeply. When she felt them disappear from her eyes, she slumped against the door, continuing to breathe deeply to calm her frazzled state. Her legs felt too weak to hold herself up but she couldn't will herself to sink to the floor and rest. She must have stayed there for several minuets before her heard Draco's feet descend the staircase and with a slam of the door, he was gone.

Something within her snapped, and with a gasp of pain she let the tears fall down her face like a waterfall. Her legs gave way and fell to the floor, her dress flowing out underneath her. She didn't recall how long she laid there after she finished her tears, listening to the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears and feeling it break in half again.

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><p>Harry looked at his weary friend as he leaned back in his favorite armchair. Draco was across him, sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his hands on top his knees, face down staring at the floor, and his brandy glass precariously held by the tips of his fingers. It was well pass one o'clock in the morning when Draco hammered on their front door. Harry came down the stairs pulling on his black night robe, hiding his bare chest from view, as he sleepily open the door. With one look, Harry brought him into the study for a brandy. It was now two o'clock and Draco hasn't spoken a word.<p>

His was about to speak to his quiet friend when his wife entered the doorway, dressed in light blue silk and pink lace nightgown with a worn orange quilt with blue bird embroidery around the edge wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was braided down the side and her eyes were a little puffy from being awaken in the middle of the night.

"Is he catatonic?" she blatantly asked her husband, eying the quite man sitting on the couch.

Harry suppressed the urge to laugh, seeing his wife's glare. "He's fine, he just…"

"Needed to think?" she offered, glaring at Draco who finally looked up.

"Sorry Luna," Draco said softly, standing up, "I was just—"

"Stop," she demanded.

He did, slightly worried at the death glare Potter's wife was giving him.

"Sit down," she said to him, then turned to her husband. "_I'll_ talk to him, seeing how it takes a _woman_ to be a man to get another man to talk."

Harry's eyes widen at his wife's statement, and was about to protest when he saw the look in her eyes. A look that would let any man run to his mother in fear. He gulped and nodded, standing up and walking to leave the room. Before he left, he bent down to kiss his wife's cheek.

"I'll wait for you love," he whispered into her ear, smiling to himself when she blushed.

He left the room and Luna moved to take her husband's seat, leaning back so she could sit comfortably with her hands sitting atop her rounded stomach. She looked down at him a stern look and Draco couldn't help but feel nervous as she eyed him on the couch, like a teacher about to scold their student.

"You deserve what ever she gives to you," she stated. He made to argue, but with a single raised finger she silenced him. "You loved her _so_ much, that you didn't even say _one_ word to her when you disappeared. I understand that you wanted to protect her, but your aura confused yourself and _that_ caused you to make the worst decision you could have possibly made. Now the universe is making you pay, but regrettably Hermione has to suffer with you because she loved you. You _both _have to deal with what _you_ decided, that's only going to change when you tell her what happen between you and your father."

Draco stared at the floor, afraid to look up at Luna for fear of his emotions breaking through the stonewall he built over the years. When he finally decided to look up at her, he found the chair empty and with Luna nowhere in sight.

He couldn't help but smile, '_She's a strange person, that Lovegood.'_

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><p><strong>For the next couple chapters I've been inspired by the musical Nine song<em> Take it All<em> sung and performed by Marion Cotillard. It so powerful and emotion that I believe that it evokes what Hermione is feeling with Draco. **

**It's very beautiful (from me-a person coming from a dancing and singing background) and would think you would enjoy watching it/listening to it. So I'll share it with you: it's on youtube.**

**.com/watch?v=Qzm5ZMxuer4&feature=related**

**Enjoy and I hope you love it as much as I do!**

**Don't forget to review**


	12. With My Back Against the Wall

**Sorry for the long update but next week is exam week for me and being the overachieving student I am it's a weekend of studying for me.**

**Enjoy and Review!**

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><p>Light streamed brightly into the bedroom causing McLaggen to groan and roll to his other side. His head was throbbing along with his body, and all he wanted was to go back to sleep. When he reach out for another pillow he touch something smooth and warm, and it silently moaned in response. McLaggen opened his eyes confused at the object in front of it. Once his eyes adjusted, they widen like saucers.<p>

Lying next to him in nothing but a diamond and pearl necklace was Hermione. Her brown hair was still kept in her hairstyle the previous night and her necklace still around her neck. At first, McLaggen was glad he was naked in the same bed the girl but…how good was it? He couldn't exactly remember…it didn't exactly happen like this. He glanced around the room trying to piece together what happened that night—clothes were thrown across the room, and an empty bottle of champagne and flutes were overturned on his bedside table. Pillows fell on the floor and the sheets of the bed were pulled out from underneath the mattress. He tired to sit up but the throbbing pain against his temples forced him to lie back down against the pillows.

As he glanced back at his bedmate, Hermione began to stir next to him and turned over onto her side, blinking away the sleep from her eyes.

"Good morning," she purred, stretching in a way that the sheets moved to reveal the tops of her breasts.

"Morning," he answered, looking from her chest to her face and back again.

She caught his gaze and grinned wickedly, pulling the sheet close against herself. "_Oh_ no, you had enough of me for one night!"

He leaned over her and returned the grin, "Are you sure about that?"

She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck forcing his lips down upon her. It was sloppy and wet coming from McLaggen but she made it as provocative and seductive as possible. Lightly biting his lips and ravenously exploring his mouth in a way that quickly made him aroused, as far as she could tell from his appendage hitting her sheet covered thigh. She broke away for air and let him kiss along her neck, panting lightly to urge him forward. As he reached the edge of the sheet she giggled and slipped out of his grasp and out of the bed taking the sheet with her.

"_You _are incorrigible," she smiled, looking at him seductively through her eyelashes.

"I know, but come back to bed luv, I want to relive last night," _Or at least remember it._

Hermione grinned, playing with the top of the sheet, "Now you're just a tease! Love bits don't look as attractive as they do in sunlight, and you have last night to thank for it."

With a wink she turned and made her way into his closet leaving McLaggen rather unsatisfied.

'_I bed a minx and I can't even remember,'_ he sighed to himself, falling back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, _Lousy night in my book._

"Is it alright with you if I borrow one of your longer shirts?" Hermione called from the closet. "It might be strange for a woman to be wearing a evening dress in mid afternoon,"

"Uh…sure go ahead," he answered rubbing his eyes and sitting on the edge of his bed. "But they might be a little short on you,"

"Maybe, but if there is…_aha_!"

McLaggen began to stretch his arms to relive his tiredness, then wincing as he felt something pull on the middle of his back. Standing and grabbing his drawers from the floor he strolled to his mirror and turn to see his back. On both sides of his back, one set higher than the other, were collections of nail marks that slightly grazed his skin. His eyes widen slightly, making him glance over at his closet where he could hear clothes ruffling.

'_So, she was a little minx indeed_…'he thought, turning to face his mirror again. He'll have to make sure that he stayed awake for the next time they managed to make their way to his bed.

"Do I look appropriate for the day?"

McLaggen turned to Hermione, who was leaning against the doorway of his closet. His eyes widen at the sight of her in one of his aqua shirts that even though she had the sleeves folded to her elbows and was a tad short above the knee, it seemed to be made for her. With a black belt wrapped around her tiny waist, gathering the loose shirt so that the bottom fanned out like a skirt, she looked effortlessly attractive.

"I take it you borrow men's shirts often?" he asked, teasingly but curiously.

She grinned in a mischievous manner that aroused McLaggen in a way. "Would you be jealous if I said I did?"

"Perhaps,"

She winked at him and moved to collect her clothing from the floor, "I'm singing at Margo's tonight, if you would like to make an appearance."

McLaggen walked into his closet to get dress, smiling at her along the way, "Will there be a possible repeat of last night?"

"Unfortunately no, I have to work all this week and need to get at least some sleep in there somewhere,"

He chuckled putting on a shirt and pants; "I think you should get that in writing."

"Waste of paper," Hermione called, "Thank you for a lovely night,"

"You're—wait what?" He asked frantically, walking out of the closet and seeing it empty made his way quickly out the door and to the stairs. Hermione descended the stairs and was making her way to the door. "Where are you going?"

She glanced up at the top of the stairs and smiled kindly, "A woman's work is never done, but it can at least be done quickly. Mr. McLaggen," she gave a curtsy, "Thank you for a wonderful evening and the beautiful necklace, I hope to see you soon."

With a wink she opened the door and left. McLaggen sighed and leaned his head against the banister.

_Oh…this woman is gonna be fun,_

* * *

><p>"I never thought I would have to go through something like that,"<p>

Luna was anticipating another lonely afternoon tea when Hermione knocked at her front door. Normally it would be Harry joining her for tea but he was called away to work early this morning. She was thankful that Hermione came by, because she was just as eager to find out what happened at McLaggen's as everyone else. She came in with a smart grey pelted dress that was belted above her hips and a white sun hat adorning her head, with no trace of her stressful evening upon her face. Sitting down and listening to her relay her story, she couldn't help but jump for joy inside when Hermione retold her of how she planned the scene of their 'love-making'.

"He is so arrogant and grotesque that…I _can_ handle him but I can only fake enthusiasm for so long," she continued, sipping her tea.

Luna nodded her understanding, "Harry doesn't enjoy you being near that cad either, but he's thankful you haven't quit yet."

Hermione chuckled, "He knows I'm not one to quit,"

"That he does," she glanced over the edge of her cup, "Draco is quite upset though,"

"Don't start Luna," she said, stiffening at his name.

"Why? It's obvious that you energy has diminished because of it; you don't seem as lively as you have been before."

"It's called being tired, Luna," she explained sharply.

"That's as truthful as the word of a thief Hermione, not very convincing."

"What do you want me to confess to, Luna?" She stood up from the couch and moved that she could face Luna as she paced in front of the table, "That I'm angry with what he did? Of course, that is obvious to anyone who sees. That I wish to…hit him and make him suffer? That despite everything that has happened I want nothing more than to just…kiss him and wish everything was back to the way it was before he…he left."

Luna frowned looking to her lap of her brown evening dress she wore for comfort. Seeing the tears beginning to peak in her friends eyes panged her heart to see her in such distress. However, she knew Hermione needed to let out her emotions and maybe _then_ she could handle why he—

"After he left…" Hermione began again wiping away her tears, "I never felt more alone. It was as if…he was my other half and then it just…_vanished, _like I was not _his_ other half. Everyday since he left I told myself that I was better off without him and that I was better off, but the more I thought about him…the more I missed him and wanted to be next to him again. In these three days I've never felt so confused and heartbroken in all my life."

Luna bit her lip resisting the urge to interrupt her and smoothed the dress about her stomach. She wanted nothing more than to explain Draco leave and about everything that he did but Hermione continued to speak out her frustrations.

"I _know _he's hiding something," she said matter-of-factly.

Luna glanced up surprised, but Hermione didn't register the look she gave her.

"When we were arguing it was like he wanted to say something, explain something, but he just…wouldn't talk to me. I don't…I don't know what to say to him anymore."

Luna couldn't take it anymore. "He _had_ to,"

Hermione glanced up at as if finally realizing Luna was there. Looking at Hermione's shock expression made Luna regret speaking up.

"You _knew?" _She questioned in disbelief, "You knew he was going to leave me but you didn't say _anything_?"

"It wasn't for me to tell," Luna snapped, a little harshly. "But it wasn't to cause you misery, it was to keep you safe."

Hermione scoffed at her choice of words, "To keep me _safe_? If he wanted me to be safe it would have been with him, and when I was crying my heart out you knew but you didn't—"

"Luna!"

Harry came into the sitting room with a pastry box with a look of excitement, but upon seeing the looks of the two women his smile faded.

"Is everything alright?" he asked cautiously.

"Wonderful," Hermione answered somberly, picking up her hat and clutch, "I was just leaving actually. Luna, thank you for the tea, I hope to see you both soon enough."

Luna stood up to speak and Harry tried to catch her arm to stop her, but Hermione brushed pass them and left the house with a slam of the door behind her. Luna crumpled into the couch, softly beginning to cry. Harry set down his box and knelt down in front of her, holding her hand and cradling her cheek.

"Luna, love what's wrong? What happened?"

"I told…I told her that Draco left her to keep her safe," she managed to explain between sobs. "I never meant…to tell her but Harry, she's broken and she…she deserves to know why."

Harry nodded sadly, "He will, he loves her to much, the prat."

She smiled slightly but shook her head, "If he doesn't soon, they'll both get hurt."


	13. There Will Be Nothing

**Sorry for the wait, test week for me. **

**Review and make me happy! I might even tell you my next series idea!**

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><p>Hermione entered Margo's through the backstage entrance later that evening with her dress for the evening in her garment bag draped over her arm. She made her way swiftly through the chaos of the off-stage members preparing the stage for tonight and into the general direction of the dressing rooms. She caught sight of a familiar face in the band warm-up room as she passed by.<p>

"Seamus!"

A young Irish man turned around in surprise and as he turned to the voice in the doorway his face broke into a smile.

"Granger," he said in his strong Irish accent. He made his way to her and wrapped her in his strong arms, "What are ye doing 'ere?"

"I'm singing tonight," she said looking at his person, "And you what are you doing here?"

"I play 'ere from time to time, with a nice bass that is," he turned to his band mates, "This 'ere's Johnny and Marcus on the sax, with Conner on piano and Murphy and Sam on the horns. Mates, this is milady Hermione Granger, voice of an angle she has."

She laughed, nodding a greeting to the other men, "He exaggerates but I'm honored to play with a group of gentlemen like yourselves."

A few laughed, and Marcus, a dark haired man in a sleeveless shirt with suspenders held out a hand out to her.

"Pleasure's all ours Miss," he said winking at her, "Heard you sing at a bar awhile back, like a siren to be honest,"

She faked a laugh at his obvious flattery, "If only it were true, I would actually be the only female on earth to control the male population,"

Seamus shivered dramatically, "Scary that be,"

"So tell us Miss Granger," Conner said, sitting on the piano chair with his forearms resting against his knees and a fag in between his fingers, "Do you happen to be available for a drink afterwards with these _lonely_ players,"

Sam, a strong dark skinned male, hit Conner upside the head with his paper he had been reading, "Ah piss off you, why would a fine woman like her, be around the likes 'a you? When she could spend a evening with a true gentlemen such as myself,"

Hermione chuckled at the boy's—or maybe, _men's_ antics, "As much as I love men fighting over me, I don't mix business with…pleasure."

She winked at them as she left the room, "Now if you'll excuse me I have to get ready for the evening."

She smiled as her heard catcalls and yells of encouragement come from the room. Being a woman it was always uplifting to get a reaction from a complete stranger of the opposite sex. Of course, there was always a line that had to be drawn and she wasn't one to forget to tell them otherwise. Making her way to her dressing room she recalled how she met Draco when _he _was one of her admirers, the only one that seemed to take an interest in what she had to say instead of what she hiding under her clothes.

_She was stepping out into the street with an arm full of books, after spending the entire afternoon in _Market's Bookstore,_ enjoying the store's the calming silence of the shop and murmured conversation. It was a long hard struggle this week for her; the clubs she was meant to sing called her to say that they would not be needing her services for the evening. 'Services,' like she was a woman for hire, she hated the sexist men of the city. Yes, she was a woman of wealth from her family and could live off of her looks like many woman have done, but she preferred to work to live for her life to put bread on her own table, she didn't want to rely on someone else to keep her head above water. _

_She was so deep in thought that she didn't realize she was walking into someone. With tremendous force she hit his side and twisted as she fell to the ground, along with her books. She tensed up as she prepared to meet the impact of the cold rock pavement. With a quick reacting reflex, the stranger grabbed her arm and held onto her, stopping her from even touching the ground. _

"_Whoa, you alright?" he asked, calmly._

_She let out a shaky breath, "Yes, forgive me, I didn't see—"_

_As he pulled her back up with a light tug, she stumbled forward and found herself looking into the stranger's grey eyes that despite looking cold held a little look of mirth. His hair was blond that despite being styled carefully was windswept and messy, but in the most handsome way. With her between caught between his arms wrapped around to steady her and his chest her hands fell onto his chest, where she could feel the slight outline of his muscles. _

"_Um…" she started to say, trying to calm her racing heart, "Sorry, I didn't see you,"_

_He smiled at her, "Who's sorry?"_

_She blushed under his gaze and looked away, then noticed she was still wrapped in his embrace._

"_Pardon me, but you're still holding me,"_

"_Oh, yes," he released her, "Sorry about that, here let me help."_

_He joined her on the ground helping her with her books as she protested._

"_Oh please, it's fine, it was my fault to begin with,"_

_He ignored her, and pick up a thin novel, "_The Great Gatsby, _interesting read for a woman, such as yourself,"_

_She narrowed her eyes at him, "Have you even read it?"_

_He smirked this time, as if amused, "'__I hope she'll be a fool—that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool..._'"

_She was a little impressed but not really at the quote he decided to recite, "I hope that you don't always look to woman that way, you might end up like Gatsby himself,"_

_He let out a laugh and shook his head, "That might be, but I believe we're all fools going through life,"_

_She eyed him standing with her fallen books in her arms as she brushed off the dust from her dress, "If you'll excuse me I have to move on with_ my_ life,"_

_As she turned on her heel and walked down the street but felt the stranger close on her heels._

"_You almost ran me over miss, you can at least give me your name,"_

_"Evelyn," she lied, not meeting his gaze._

_He stepped in front of her, making her halt in front of him. He stared down at her, as if he could stare straight into her soul, "You're lying."_

_She bit her lip awkwardly under his gaze, "May you please move?"_

"_Draco," he stated, ignoring her._

_She looked at him confused, "Excuse me?"_

"_My name," he explained, "It's Draco,"_

_She raised an eyebrow, "Dragon, how…meaningful,"_

_He laughed, "Well my parents didn't believe so at the time, but…yes it's who I am."_

_She couldn't help but eye him like a thief, "Do you say this to all the woman you meet,"_

"_No," he said, "Only to the one's that intrigue me,"_

_She laughed, "Well keep looking for one," _

_She continued to walk but Draco was walking along her side matching her stride. _

"_Could I take a moment to make you believe your intriguing?"_

_She stopped and stared him down, taking in every little bit of information that could be seen upon person. He seemed innocent enough, well built, blond hair almost white, distinct facial features, and dress in a pressed shirt and pants, like a banker on break or something along those lines._

_She sighed begrudgingly, "Fine, you have thirty seconds to convince me not to hurt your family jewels, begin,"_

_He smiled, "You've been reading in that bookstore every afternoon for the last few days, so much that the owner knows you by name. You sit near the window because the lighting there is perfect, and the chair looks really comfortable. I see you when I eat my lunch at the café across the street, and when you read you get this real peaceful look and your expression changes when you read like you're reacting with the character. When the sun hit's your hair I think it's the most beautiful thing I saw and it's the highlight of my afternoon, it's like you washed it with gold and you can only see it in the perfect light. You're effortlessly beautiful and you're independent, which makes you more gorgeous than the next woman that walks by…So?"_

_She coughed awkwardly and avoid his gaze, "You uh…went over your time,"_

_He nudged her chin up, looking into his eyes, "I think you can overlook that just this once," _

Hermione shook herself out of the memory, laying her garment bag across the back of a chair. It wasn't the time to be feeling such emotions when she was about to perform in less than half an hour. She opened the garment bag and pulled out her dress, a number with a sheer top, ruched middle and a smooth billowing skirt. She slipped out of her cream and navy blue waist dress and lightly kicked her blue-heeled shoes set herself down in front of the vanity's mirror and pulled her hair back into a half-up half-down style. She reached for her barrette to hold her hair in place, but her fingers pushed it to the floor.

Sighing she bent down to pick it up once she straightened herself and looked into the mirror. She gasped as she saw the reflection; sitting relaxed in the chair near the door was Tom Riddle with his feet crossed and his face emotionless.

"Miss Granger," he said casually, "I was wondering if I could have a word,"

She tried to calm her nerves, but she couldn't but be unnerved by his presence, "On what matter?"

"Your affiliation with Mr. McLaggen," he stated, looking straight at her through the mirror, "Not that I appose of it, of course, but why on earth would you associate yourself with someone so…well, someone like McLaggen,"

She concentrated on applying her makeup refusing to look at his reflection, "He is good company is all,"

Riddle chucked, "Now really Miss Granger, we know that that's a load of bollocks, McLaggen isn't exactly what you would call…the 'companionable' type."

"Believe what you will Mr. Riddle," she replied smoothing her foundation underneath her eyes, "But I still don't see how my relationship involves _your_ curiosity."

"Because," he began, standing up out of the chair and strolling over to stand before her, "McLaggen is a fool and doesn't understand when to keep his trap shut, especially when induced into an alcoholic state."

Hermione reached for her eye powder when she felt Riddle's hand along her back, where the back of her dress was exposed in a V. Her body shivered but only at the feel of his cold skeleton like fingers.

"You were once involved with a Draco Malfoy, am I correct?" he asked as he twirled a curl around a finger.

She said nothing but glare at him through the mirror. Unfortunately, that was the reaction he was the reaction he was looking for because his smiled transfixed with her hair.

"Ah yes, true love was it…? Pity young love never works out in the end, especially with someone as connected as his father and he, especially with the whores of the city."

She stood abruptly but that seemed to be the moment he was waiting for. He pushed her so that she landed sitting on top of the table and stepped forward so that he was standing between her legs, so close that she was pressed with her back against the mirror and his face was within inches of her own.

"I will be watching you Miss Granger, you seem to be…a fiery thing to play with," he drawled out softly.

She made to hit him and push him away but he grabbed her hands and pinned them to the mirror.

"Fiery indeed," he smirked, taking the opportunity to leer at her body, "I don't care what you do with McLaggen honestly, strap him down and take him or leave him whimpering like a whipped pup…as long as you don't meddle in affairs that are none of your concern. Now…"

He released his hold but used a hand to cup her face hard so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"I hope the rest of your evening is memorable, good evening Miss. Granger,"

Placing a sharp kiss against her lips he turned and left.

Hermione didn't remember how long she stayed there, on top of the table, letting Riddle's words wash over her but when a voice called 'Five minuets till time' she broke out of silent state and hurried to finish getting ready. She was shaking as she applied the rest of her make up and she tried to catch her breath in small short gasps, but she willed herself not to let break through. As she finished the last touch up on make up, she finally controlled herself and then a knock came to the door.

"Hermione?" Seamus called, opening the door and peeking around the door, "Ready to—what happened here?"

Hermione tensed and followed his gaze. Upon the ground was the lamp, a few bottles of perfume and such, and her make up bag was thrown against the floor. _It must have been from when Riddle…_

"Oh don't worry, just a little mishap," she said easily, waving the mess away, "I'll pick it up later,"

"You sure?" Seamus questioned, eyeing her.

"Yes, fine," she insisted, walking pass him, "Let's go shall we?"

He followed after her without question, and Hermione couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief to focus on something other than what happened with Riddle. She smiled as the crowd greeted her with enthusiasm and took her place on the stage, forgetting everything for the moment. As the band began, she sang.

"_You want my love take it all._

_You want to watch it all come off take it all._

_Come on now, show me how you can take it all…"  
><em>


	14. Twelve Angry Men

**Hello again! Things are a little slow around here but it might pick up when inspiration hits me.**

**I'm inspired by the movie _Twelve Angry Men _with Henry Fonda, in his sexy white suit, for the conference room scene. **

**PS Poll on my homepage for MY NEXT STORY, I would love input!**

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><p>With a few well-placed bribes and a couple favors, Harry managed to get the meeting over the missing files recorded, anything that might appear useless might be rather important the next day. Walking into the large conference room, he found the nine out of twelve men were in attendance, some sitting down and others standing, all talking among themselves. Harry pulled out a seat and sat down setting out his folder he came with and mindlessly glancing through the papers, thinking about the undercover work.<p>

They had yet to find the files, or any signs that McLaggen had them in his possession. Riddle on the other hand was looking like a more promising suspect. Riddle was one of the long-standing mob leaders of Great Britain, specializing in mostly secrets, corporate espionage, and assassinations. From what Hermione told him of his appearance at Margo's he was on to them, but they needed _something_ to use if they wanted to find the files.

The remaining members came into the room, along with Fudge and his assistant, Percy Weasley, who was there to take notes. Everyone stopped what they were doing and took their seats as the Minister in turn took his place at the end of the table. Looking about his colleges, Harry spotted McLaggen down the table with a bored look upon his face. He looked a little _too_ relaxed to be honest, either because he thought indifferent of the files or that he didn't care what would happen during this meeting.

"Let's get down to it chaps," Fudge spoke glancing through the papers he had with them, "I contacted you for your skills and associations to solve this matter. The files stolen depict everything our nation has involving our security and war protocols. If those get into the wrong hands we will not be able to protect ourselves from invading threats."

The statement left a feeling of worry and fear in the room. Men look at their hands as if ashamed at their lack of security to keep such things safe.

"During this time today," continued Fudge breaking the tense silence, "We will begin to devise new plans of defense and come up with tactics that might help recover what was stolen,"

Harry managed to break away for the arguing group three hours later. They have done nothing but argue at attempts to provide new defense alternatives. A few manage to think of a few suspects that might have had knowledge of the files and informants that are deep enough in the crime world that they might get answers. However, their main priority for the meeting was to discuss defense and arguing which strategies were useless.

Being part of the group that would be using his contacts, Harry slipped out of the room and down the hall towards the private offices. Walking to McLaggen's he jimmied the handle, groaning to himself when he found it look. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a knife, a knife that was given to him by his mischievous godfather Sirius Black, who unfortunately passed when he was in school. Shaking away the memory, he knelt down in front of the door and used it to pry the lock aside and with a quick flick of his wrist the lock fell back and he was able to open the door. He glanced up and down the hall making sure no one was near and quickly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

The office was slightly bare with only the necessities—a desk, file cabinets, chairs in front and behind the desk and a painting on the wall of the countryside looking out of place. Harry moved to the desk and began to look through the loose papers that littered his desk. Memos, reports, letters to the bookkeeper, nothing that really sparked interest.

Harry turned to look into the cabinets when his foot made a loud _crunch. _He removed his foot and saw a wadded up ball of paper that missed the wastebasket. Picking it up, he straightened it out and smoothed the writing. It was a telegram, received this morning.

**Dedication to: Bartemious Crouch Jr.**

**Send to: Cormac McLaggen of the Department of Defense**

**Files apprehended STOP Meet at Le Bat en Rouge STOP 11 PM STOP Discretion is priority STOP Purus Sarguinis STOP**

"_Purus_ _Sanguinis_?" Harry thought, pocketing the telegram, "_Figures McLaggen's daft enough to join the occult_,"

He snuck out of the room again and made his way back into the hall, only to run into McLaggen.

"Oi, Potter, what are you doing?" he asked eyeing him.

"I could ask you the same thing," he retorted, "But I was stretching my legs, there's only so much arguing a man can take,"

"True," McLaggen agreed relaxing a bit, "I was just going out for a fag, care to join me?"

"I don't smoke," Harry brushed pass him and reentered the conference room breathing a sigh of relief that he wasn't caught.

* * *

><p>"<em>Purus<em> _Sanguinis_," Hermione recited sitting down in her hotel sitting room later that evening. "It's Latin, meaning 'Pure Blood,' but what does that have to do with McLaggen?"

After Harry left the Defense meeting, tired and exhausted from the arguing group of men that spent all their time and energy getting nowhere, he made his way to Hermione's hotel where Draco was also keeping guard. He told them of the meeting and how useless the meeting was but was at least informative when he found the telegram.

"Well McLaggen doesn't _have_ the files, but he's involved in the theft and with this _Purus_ _Sanguinis_,"

"But what is it? It honestly just sounds like a farewell, 'Blessed Be' or 'Luck Be on Your Side.'"

"It's a crime family," Draco finally said.

They looked to him confused. Draco sighed, resting his arms on the tops of his knees.

He knew all too well of _Purus Sanguinis_, within his family it was a lifestyle that he unfortunately had to be apart of since he was born. He restrained himself from revealing his angry at the memories and pressed on explaining.

"It's made of elite group of people from 'old money,' and well connected within the Great Britain so far back in history that they practically run the nation—playing Politicians like puppets, organizing crime and underground trading for the black market, and selling secrets to the highest bidder. The leader of _Purus_ _Sarguinis_ has never been identified, but he goes by the name of Lord Voldemort. Voldemort has been a throne in the Scotland Yard's side for years, always three steps ahead and never leaving a trace of what he's going to do next.

He keeps his followers close and those who gain his trust are brought into his inner and they call themselves his Death Eaters. With the Death Eaters, it's like a right of passage for the members of the family—fathers, mothers, sons, daughters—they're all initiated into the circle, weather you're married or born into it, "

Hermione eyed him, "How do you know so much about Voldemort?"

His eyes hardened, "I have experience."

"Well, they're meeting at le Bat en Rouge," Harry continued, "It won't be easy to gain trust—"

"I know someone," Hermione and Draco stated at the same time.

Glancing at each other they held each other's gaze. Draco looked surprised while Hermione glared at Draco in suspicion.

"How would you know of a place like Le Bat en Rouge?"

"I might ask you the same thing," he snapped back at her.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but Harry slid in to interrupt, "It will be good to have both your contacts involved as long as they're both discrete."

Hermione nodded, and rose to refill her glass of water, "My friend owes me a favor and she and I are practically like sisters, so I don't think it will be any problem."

Draco glanced at Harry, who was waiting for his explanation, "Childhood friend, we've always been close and still keep in touch."

Harry nodded looking up towards Hermione who paused in pouring her drink, a look of puzzlement across her face with her brows furrowed.

"Hermione?"

"Why would they steal the files?" she asked out loud, not exactly directing her question to anyone but more to herself, "You said you are already making plains in changing your defense so why would they steal them in the first place. They obviously would have found out rather quickly and fix the problem just as fast."

"Make them weak probably," Draco mused to her, "Have them at a vulnerable advantage where they could strike."

"But why?" she questioned, "Why would they steal government documents, when they have the top officials working on getting them back? And if they do have them, who would benefit from getting them? Would they be considered useless now that the government is fixing their defense? And why would—"

"Granger!" Draco called, laughing with Harry, "Breathe, we can't even remember your questions,"

"It's called thinking," she snapped, setting the metal water pitcher down with a _clang_, "It's just odd to me, that's all,"

"It's almost midnight Hermione," Harry noted glancing at his wristwatch, "We'll question theories at a more reasonable hour."

"Fine with me," she said a little bitterly, walking to him, "I'll be at the Le Bat en Rouge tomorrow night, I might be able to talk to someone else about being a tail."

"Alright then," Harry stood up, draping his coat over his arm, "Malfoy, are you staying next door?"

"Yeah, I don't feel like getting a cab at this hour,"

Harry nodded, kissing Hermione's cheek goodbye and whispering, "No fighting please,"

She glared at him as he left, leaving her with Draco. She turned to him to find that he was watching her, a look of longing in his eyes. She knew that look, when he wanted to say something he would look at her thinking of ways to tell her. He knew she was a strong woman, but he wanted to protect her, even from himself. Except _he_ hurt her, and in the worst way possible. He sighed, biting his lip to stop the words from tumbling off his lips.

Standing up, he cleared his throat, "Are you okay here by yourself?"

She glared at him as she crossed her arms, "I'm fine, now can you leave now?"

Draco picked up his discarded jacket and walked to her, stopping in front of her. She made to move out of his way, but his gaze kept her there, as if freezing her with his eyes. He made to reach a hand to her face, but she turned away, blinking back the tears that she felt were threatening to come.

Draco sighed, and moved past her, he lingered in the doorway but when she refused to turn around he closed the door with a slam, leaving her in the silence of her own thoughts.

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><p><strong>Sorry slightly uninspired chapter because I want to get to Le Bat en Rouge!<strong>

**Review and Poll!**


	15. It's Just a Noisy Hall

_Come on babe why don't we paint the town and all that jazz?_

_I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down and all that jazz_

Hermione smiled at the sound of erotic jazz that filled through Le Bat en Rouge, letting her fur collared coat open a bit. Le Bat en Rouge was decorated in a Victorian style with red and deep purples and with antique chandeliers adorning the ceiling; the balconies were draped in dark velvet curtains with accents of gold tassels. Men in top hats and elegant canes and suits, were gathered around tables with glasses of champagne and brandy watching and cheering the girls performing on stage. She couldn't help but let a wave of longing as she saw the girls dressed in corsets and masks. It's been a long while since she stepped foot in her first home.

* * *

><p><em>Hermione smiled into the mirror as she brushed powder against her cheeks. The brush tickled her cheeks, and as the soft bristles fanned across her cheeks she smiled at the feeling of calmness it brought her. Pleased with the amount of gold powder she adorned her face; she set the brush down and reached for her mask. It was her favorite thing to put on for the evening. It covered the top half of her face with sharp elegant eyes and was decorated in gold lace and small pearl beads. She tied the gold ribbons around her head, and after adjusting it so that her eyes looked through mysteriously, let the ribbons fall with the curls in her hair.<em>

"_Five minuets children five minuets," the stagehand called walking through the dressing room she shared with the other girls. "Ladies move your bustles,"_

_Hermione stood up out of her chair and gave her outfit one last look through the mirror. Her gold corset lay flat and clung to her like a second skin, with the cluster of pale pink and white roses resting at the top of the corset in between her breasts. Her short pale pink and white lace skirt that barely hit the bottom of her panty-clad bum was perfectly puffed and the flowers, ribbon and lace that wrapped around her waist and fell down her front lay perfectly._

"_Evy!" called a woman dressed in purple and black corset adorn with ribbon, lace and beads, "Come now your next!"_

"_Right behind you Adler,"_

_With a finally look in the mirror she followed her friend through the narrow hallway that ran behind the main stage and on Stage Right. They could already hear the men cheering the act on stage, the Pink Petite Fille (the youngest of the bunch) and their Mére (their mentor and mother in ways) doing a flirtatious little number with the Petite Fille flirting with the men sitting along the edge of the stage only to be pulled back by their Mére. Hermione recognized Lady Primrose—Margaret in her light pink and magenta corset with her mask that had a half moon on her right and a tall feather—as the Mére, and two of her three Petite Filles, Lady Avril—Bonnie in her pale Pink and Black corset with her black lace and jeweled mask, and Lady Demelza—Natalie in her pink and black chiffon ribbon and tiny top hat. She smiled at their interactions with the men, it was so sweet, playful, and innocent, that she couldn't help but wish to be a playful Petite Fille for one night._

"_If you think you are out of my hair, you are mistaken_

_Because if these men dare, you'll be taken_

_So Behave!"_

_The crowd cheered as they finished and the band that resided above the stage ceased playing, letting the men have their applause. The lights dimmed leaving the stage black, Hermione walked slowly on stage with the stagehands that wheeled on a smaller stage with a screen that only would show her silhouette. After setting it in place, Hermione stepped up and got in place, breathing deeply to sooth her racing nerves. _

"_And now gentlemen," the Conductor announced, "The gorgeous voice of Le Bat en Rouge, Lady Evelyn."_

_As the band played, the crowd erupted into cheers that sent her heart racing. The spotlight shone on her stage and revealed her silhouette to the crowd. With a deep breath, she moved softly with the music as she sang._

"_Birds flying high, you know how I feel_

_Sun in the sky, you know how I feel_

_Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel_

_It's a new dawn, It's a new day, It's a new life_

_For me…"_

_She revealed her leg through the screen, which received another round of applause and approval._

"…_And I'm feeling good…"_

* * *

><p>Hermione was brought out of her musings when applause rippled through the crowd, the song had ended and men were standing for an encore. She clapped appropriately and settled herself down into one of the booths that were hidden into the walls below the private balconies above them. As the music began once again, Le Bat en Rouge can-can dancers came through the sides of the stage and down the ramp that extended the middle on the stage, lifting their skirts and kicking their slender legs.<p>

"Can I get you something, miss?"

Hermione looked up to see a girl dressed in light pink and black flowered corset with a feathered bustle and lined in beads. Her eyes shone through her black lace ribbon mask with her hair blond hair piled in curls about her head. She held herself well and held a small silver tray for drinks.

She smiled at the _Petite Fille,_ "No thank you, but could you inform Madame Rosemerta and Lady Madame Godiva that Lady Evelyn wishes to have an audience with her mother and sister,"

The _Petite Fille_ eyes widen, "Oh my, you are…_her_, _the_ Lady Evelyn! I can't believe, excuse me Milady,"

With a graceful curtsy, she scurried away excited. Hermione smiled, _she_ was the one that turned Le Bat en Rouge into a place that woman can safely express their…sexuality in a way. With the use of masks and aliases, women of society can freely act the way they wish, within means of course. While she was a Lady, a Duchess once performed the month before her wedding, and from what she has read in the papers her husband has been faithful, only to her, like a priest to his religion. Even from looking at the dancers on the stage they sincerely looked like they were having a good time.

Hermione herself left after almost two years regrettable but she believed that it was her time to move on and let someone else take the stage, so to speak. Madame Rosemerta, the owner of Le Bat en Rouge, and Lady Madame Godiva, the Lady of the House and her best friend Ginny, promise to tell the girls who came through of her so that her 'legacy' would never die. It wasn't that she gave woman sexappeal in their lives but she gave them power to do what _they _want to do with their lives, like her making her own money and supporting herself without the need of a husband.

_A husband… Draco… _

"Milady?"

Hermione jumped at the sound of the _Petite Fille_, who came back beaming at her.

"The Ladies of the House would enjoy your visit immensely," she said, excited.

She returned the smile, "Thank you, lead the way,"

* * *

><p>Backstage was just as she remembered, chaotic.<p>

Stagehands were running with boas and props, that despite their small stature they could run you over without remorse. A few older woman that Hermione recognized were drinking tea as that sewed torn straps and corsets, and once the saw her walk by the stood up excited and crowded around her, chatting about her like birds.

"Evy, you've grown so gracefully!"

"I heard you sing the other day, so beautiful,"

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"I'm sorry, Mage, Sandra, Miss Barrow," the _Petite Fille_ said, interrupting politely, "But Lady Evelyn is meeting with the _Madams_ right now."

"I'll make it a priority to come back and talk to you ladies," Hermione said with a smile, then following the Petite Fille deeper backstage. A thought came to her, "I didn't catch your name, Lady…"

"Oh, pardon, Lady Lily of the Valley," she covered her mouth discretely, "Lillian,"

Hermione smiled, "Hermione, Hermione Granger,"

"Yes, I _know,_" Lillian said excitedly.

She shook her head amused. As they passed by the dressing room, she managed to glimpse in and see flashes of the girls in their costumes, many recognizable and a few not so much. Lillian finally brought her to the only door backstage that was closed, with a sign: _Lady of the House._

"You can go in," Lillian said, skipping away, obviously excited to gossip with the other girls.

Hermione opened the door and closed it quickly behind her. As she turned, she came face to face with Lady Madame Godiva, her friend Ginny.

"I was wondering when you would come through this house again," she said behind her desk.

Hermione made a show of looking around the room. It was a lightly dark compared to the hallway and dressing room, but feminine. A velvet duvet lay in the corner, with a tall lamp stood next to it and a small table with a tea set in front. Her desk was of a dark wood with thin legs with a glass lamp resting on the side next to the small velvet stand that her cat-like mask was resting on. The walls were covered in draped fabric, opened in places to reveal shelves that held books and pictures. Off to her side stood a cabinet that held the photographs of the current Ladies.

Ginny sat back in her chair watching her friend as she observed the room. Her flaming red hair was pulled up into a bun, away from the standing collar of her red and gold corseted vest. Her husband commented she looked like a pirate with her striped bustled skirt, vest and white blouse that complemented her pale skin, but of course her husband enjoyed her company weather she looked like a pirate or herself.

"It doesn't seem to have change much, since I've been here," Hermione mused still looking about.

Ginny smiled, "You can't tell from the room but you can tell by the girls,"

She returned the smile, "I missed you Gin,"

Breaking her 'proper' exterior she squealed in excitement as she jumped out of her chair and ran to her in open arms.

"You have no _idea _how dull it is around here, yes the girls are good company, but honestly they drink in the excitement a little _too_ much."

Hermione laughed as Ginny guided her to the duvet, "We all do at one point, and look at you! Looking radiant as ever and with a husband too none the less,"

Ginny blushed smoothing her skirt, "This meeting isn't about me, from your letter I was eager to help,"

She nodded her agreement, "Is mother here? I wish to discuss it with her too,"

"She is," said Ginny, pouring themselves a cup of tea, "She's helping Delilah and Alida with their routine,"

"The Greengrass sisters are still here?" she said surprised, "I thought they would have started their own Cabaret by now,"

"They wanted to, but they realized their sisters _here _can't be replicated,"

Hermione nodded, recalling the two sisters. Daphne, Lady Delilah—the _Queen of Hearts_ who was good with a pair of cards—and Astoria, Lady Alida—the red and black rope dancer who enjoy the rush of heights—were one of the two groups of sisters that like Hermione enjoyed the feeling of independence that Le Bat en Rouge had to offer. Lady and Lady Biddenden—Annabel and Charlotte—were twins dressed in opposite black and whites, playing off their own personality. Annabel being sweet and innocent in a way, while Charlotte was a more aggressive woman. All of them were with Hermione during her time at Le Bat en Rouge, sometimes performing as a trio and spending the longs nights in each other's company.

Everyone in Le Bat en Rouge was like a family made up of mothers and sisters, honesty and advice, tears and comfort. When she left it was the most difficult decision she had to make, leaving not only her friends but also her adoptive family.

"How is everyone, Sarah, Rebecca?" Hermione continued, taking her tea and sipping it,

"Lady _Mistinguett_ is as sly as ever," Ginny said with praise, "but always know her limit, and Lady _Lovibond_ is like the peacock she dresses as,"

Hermione laughed as the door to the office opened and revealed her mother, Madame Rosemerta. Her wore her Red Rose net like mask hiding half of her face, and a maroon long sleeve dress that was gathered at her left side with a fur shawl and a rope of pearls. Her light brown hair was cut shorter than she remembered, but she looked as elegant as ever.

"Now my daughter, it takes you this long to meet with your own mother?"

Hermione blushed under her gaze, "We have practically the same schedule mum,"

She smiled down at the girl, "I know, I watch you at a show at the beginning of the month, like clockwork my dear,"

Hermione rose and wrapped herself in the woman's arms; the hug was familiar and filled with motherly warmth, something she longed to feel for months now.

"Oh my dear," Rosemerta said, before pulling away to look at her, "You look exquisite,"

"Thank you, and I'm sorry that our reunion isn't under better circumstances,"

Rosemerta nodded, moving to sit on the small footstool next to the girls, "I understand, but I'm glad you came. Now explain to me what you need,"

Hermione set her tea cup down, "I would like a few of the girls to eavesdrop on a group of men for me, they are apart of this group that stole something from the government, I'm helping to recover it. If you believe it's too dangerous I understand, I thought it was worth to ask."

Rosemerta nodded, taking the cup of tea that Ginny poured her. After taking a sip she peered at her over the brim. "I will allow a few girl to do the task, they are discreet and already know of these men of who you speak,"

Hermione was about to thank her, when she held up a hand in silence.

"Under _one _condition,"

Hermione nodded, "Of course what is it?"

Rosemerta exchanged a smile and a nod with Ginny, who rose and went to the shelves.

"I'm curious…"

Ginny returned with a small velvet box, which she handed to Hermione. She slowly opened it, and was taken aback at seeing her gold lace mask staring at her from its velvet cushion. Perfect and pristine as the last time she put it on.

"…Do you remember _Guido?"_

* * *

><p><strong>Songs Used:<strong>

All that Jazz - Chicago

Feelin Good - Rebecca Ferguson

**I had fun writing this, can't what till the next chapter!**

**Review and make me happy!**


	16. For All That Jazz

**Forgive the delay; writing hasn't been easy with college pressures now piling up on my well-being! **

**You know what might help…Reading, reviewing and enjoying this chapter! **

* * *

><p>"To a long life of freedom," Blaise Zabini saluted with his small glass, "And to friends who don't contact you since your marriage,"<p>

Draco rolled his eyes but down the drink with his childhood friend. Blaise Zabini, a young man of Draco's age, was the floor Manager of Le Bat en Rouge, in other words he stopped any man from getting to close to the Ladies. Raised with an Italian background, he grew up close to the Malfoy's and even closer to Draco, turning the pair into brothers. Lately circumstances stopped them from seeing each other on a monthly basis, and only spoke through the occasional letters.

They were up on the second floor in a private box that had a perfect view of the stage and the band above. Below men sat around their tables cheering for the girls performing in their black suits and top hats. Blaise and Draco were sitting at their own private table drinking as Draco explained his predicament with Purus Sarguinis, which Blaise knew more than he wished to.

"Cry a river Zabini, don't tell me _you're_ regretting the married life,"

"Never," he answered honestly, "Red's great, she's honest and isn't worried about calling me out on my crap, she great…you should come back around and meet her again when you're not asking for favors."

Draco nodded sadly, "Sorry this wasn't under better contexts,"

Blaize shook his head as he finished off his drink, "Don't worry about it, in all honestly those prats haven't really been good for business. They come here on the busy nights and seem to suck all the air out of the room. There's a look in their eyes that unnerves everyone, they aren't exactly gentlemen to the Ladies either, but they pay, nothing you can really do about it, plus I feel to old to be kicking these bastards out,"

Draco glanced at his friend, taking in his appearance. His skin was dark with even darker brown eyes and his black hair cut close to his scalp. He was only a bit bigger than Draco but if provoked he could scare the living daylights out of you.

"You look good though," Draco noted, "Still surprised Gin has you up on two feet and not crawling on the ground."

Blaise winked, "Only when we're only together Malfoy…and you? Seen Granger?"

Draco paled and turned his head to blindly watch the show, "I lost her and I don't think I can safe what's left of us,"

Blaise swore, "What the hell Malfoy, you haven't told her _anything_?"

"I couldn't alright!" he snapped, "And she doesn't want to listen, and I'm _not_ going to force her,"

He reached for the bottle of wine that stood between them and refilled his glass.

"Do you still love her?"

Draco paused, the question shouldn't surprise him but he wasn't expecting it, at least not from Blaise. He finished pouring his drink and reach down the inside of his shirt, pulling out a chain, which at the end was the forgotten engagement ring.

"Since we started working together I'm started waiting for the moment to saw something and maybe show her this," he explained, slipping it off and letting it daggled at the end of the chain, "If she'll give me a chance to explain but…I don't even deserve _that_,"

Blaise held the ring between his fingers and nodded sadly, "Your acting like a bloody martyr Draco,"

Draco put the chain back around his neck and tucked the ring back into his shirt, "Might as well, she's as good as dead if Lucius even knows I _have_ a ring,"

Blaise jaw clenched, "That bastard needs to keel over and die already,"

They stayed silent for a moment with their own thoughts, listening to the sounds of the hall.

"Is it going to be a problem with the girls eavesdropping?" Draco asked changing the subject.

He shook his head, "Nah, we'll think of it as…paying it forward, these blokes scared the Ladies one too many times and like I said before they pay well enough but I can't really do anything."

"Thanks, I owe you one,"

"I hold you to that," Blaise smirked, and then turned his attention to the entertainment.

_But nothing stays…in fifty years or so, it's gonna change, you know…_

_But, oh, it's heaven Nowadays!_

The band ended in a crescendo with the audience joining in. Blaise clapped politely for the Ladies while Draco refilled their glasses. A _Petite Fille _stepped onto the band balcony and cutely whispered into the conductor's ear. Then with a wink and a bounce she disappeared off stage.

"Gentlemen and Monsieur," the conductor announced enthusiastically, turning to address the crowd. "Tonight we have a very special treat for you,"

This peaked the men's interest, but Draco sipped his drink uninterested.

"This Lady of renowned talent has returned to us for one night_ only_…"

_Guido..._

At the voice, Draco jumped and Blaise raised his eyebrow at him. The voice seemed to fill the entire room; her flirtatious tone that was filled with want captivated the ear of every breathing man.

"It's her…" Draco whispered in disbelief.

"The songbird of Le Bat en Rouge…_Lady_ _Evelyn_,"

Draco, like all the other men in the room, practically threw himself towards the stage.

It was a voice Draco heard too much, in his memories and his dreams.

_Hermione…_

_Gui_do!

As she continued to a delicate hand in a cream lace glove slipped out the middle of the curtain and seductively played with the drapes of the velvet curtain.

_I was lazing around my bedroom when an idea occurred to me I thought you might be wondering about…Guido..._

As the hand slipped away every man was waiting on pins and needles to finally see the Lady of his young fantasies.

_Who's not wearing any clothes?_

A slender leg slip through the curtain wrapped itself around the curtain, which received approval before slipping back away.

_I'm not!_

The curtains flew open and revealed the siren. With her brown hair piled up in curls, her mask hiding a mysterious set of eyes, and her corset dress with an aqua blue bustle revealing the curves of her body, she was a raw beauty to the men applauding and watching eagerly as she dance and sang.

_My darling. Who's afraid to kiss your toes? I'm not! _

_Your mama, dear, is blowing into your ear so you'll get her loud and clear. _

_I need you to squeeze me here…_

She ran her hands across the top of her bodice with a sly grin.

_And here…_

She turned and slid her hand to her backside and underneath her bustle where the ruffles of her lingerie could be seen.

And_ here…_

As she swept across the apex of her thighs, the men seemed to collectively gulp as one. Blaise nudged Draco, who was clenching the balcony's banister till his knuckles turned a dangerous white, distracting him from going after the men that were leering at Hermione.

"Easy mate, breathe,"

_Coochie coochie coochie coo..._

It wasn't going to be easy, especially when she rolled on the floor and began playing with a man out of the crowd around the stage and his hat.

_I've got a plan for what I'm gonna do to you. _

_So hot! You're gonna steam and scream and vibrate like a string I'm plucking._

_Kiss your fevered little brow, pinch your cheeks till you say "ow", _

_And I can hardly wait to show you how… _

A cream-colored fabric swing with lace and rose fell at the end of the ramp. She sat on the swing and playfully and provocatively swinging in, back and forth above the crowd. Men reached up and tried to stroke her delicate legs but she kept them out of reach.

_Guido! Who won't care if you come to me tired and over-worked? I won't, bambino!_

_Who knows a therapy to beat what you can get from me? I don't!_

She turned in the swing and fell backwards while holding on, displaying her chest and long neck. She breathed heavily in the most intoxicating way that left every man panting like a pack of dogs.

_But this will have to be enough for now. Guido...Ciao. I love you, Guido._

The swing took her up and away into the draped ceiling and blowing a kiss into the crowd the siren disappeared. The men followed her, cheering for an encore and for her to return to them. Draco slumped into his seat running his hands through his hair and down his face.

That woman was an enigma; she had so many layers to her independent exterior that he wanted to do nothing more than to figure out just how deep her layers went.

Blaise couldn't help but chuckle at the perplexed look upon his friends face, "Woman are suppose to these mysterious creatures, but what they don't realize is that they show more than they want to at the time, they begin to lose that mystery when they begin to…you _know_,"

"What?"

Blaise sighed and looked at Draco with a serious expression.

"When they begin to fall in love,"

"…to fall in love,"

* * *

><p>Ginny stopped at hearing her husband statement. She was on her way to discuss the girls that were sly enough to help with Hermione's request. She was thankfully that <em>something <em>was being done about the men that were scaring her Ladies into their dressing rooms. With her cat mask adorned, she slipped gracefully up into the balcony and towards her husband and his company. At their conversation, she stopped and decided to listen on this _particular_ topic of conversation.

"I think the ring says it all, wouldn't you say?" Blaise's companion said.

_Draco? Wait, _ring_? What ring, there's a ring? _

"Are you going to tell her what happened? The _entire_ story?"

"I can't, I would rather have her hate me for the rest of our lives and fall in love with…someone else then let her know about Lucius,"

"I don't think that's fair to you _or_ her,"

"It doesn't matter now does it? We can't go back even if we wanted to,"

Ginny glanced around to see Draco's expression. She haven't seen him since their wedding and the man now seated in front of her husband seemed to be a ghost of who he was before. His shoulders slumped over defeated, and his face held a far off expression even though he was speaking with Blaise. She saw the same look in Hermione's eyes, the pain, the hurt, the lost. It was heart retching and they both are too stubborn to understand what they really need from each other.

"Haven't you heard of second chances?" Blaise questioned, "She may be stubborn but she's not cruel, she'll listen to you if you get her to listen,"

"Yeah, I _highly_ doubt that, she would rather shoot me with that gun of hers if she ever had the chance,"

Ginny stifled a giggle; _she _was the one that convince her father to get a gun to begin with. She wanted to get one herself but Blaise told her _he_ would be her gun. _Men..._

"If comes between being shot and never spoken to I would choose the gun, at least when it comes between me and Gin,"

Draco laughed, "Zabini I believe you have been _whipped _by the red-head,"

Blaise shrugged, "Works for me,"

Ginny slipped away as they friends laughed, silently and almost ghostly hiding her way backstage to find her friend.

* * *

><p>Hermione breathed heavily as she slipped off the swing and onto the safety of the platform. Heights have always been a problem for her, but she managed to bit her tongue and continue to smile.<p>

The stagehand, seeing her nervousness at being so high, took her gently by hand and led her to a set of stairs that would lead her backstage.

"You were magnificent Lady Evy," he noted, trying to ease her nerves.

"Thank you," she gasped, practically dashing to the stairs.

"Get a drink of water and take deep breaths, " the stagehand advised.

"Yes, thank you," she said, turning to walk down the stairs.

Her corset dress fit her a glove but she felt completely exposed under the gaze of the men watching. However, being whistled and cat called at made her confidant, which is the type of feeling the ladies of Le bat en Rouge live off of.

When she entered backstage she was greeted with a round of applause by the current Ladies of Le Bat en Rouge.

"Oh, Lady Evelyn, you were fantastic!" a girl dressed in a white and gold outfit, by the name of Lady 'Virginia' Ginevra, handed her a small glass of water.

"Could you show me how to do that Lady Evelyn?" asked Lady 'Gabreille' Colette, a coquette dressed in black and white.

"Me too, perhaps?" asked a peacock dressed Lady 'Rebecca' Lovibond.

Lady 'Rosemary' Rosette giggled, "Do you think you can teach _all_ of us that?"

Hermione laughed as she handed back the glass, "Perhaps, if it's alright with Lady Madame Godiva and Madame Rosemerta. I would enjoy seeing all of you perform if I have the chance."

That apparently was the right thing to say because they squealed in excitement and led her to the dressing room where they could relax and talk some more. She couldn't help but feel like some sort of role model for them; they wanted to know what her experience as a singer was like, how her time at Le Bat en Rouge, and even her advice on how to be independent. They left to perform but soon came back eager not to miss a thing.

"Is it hard to support yourself, when it's just you and you don't have a husband to carry you?" asked Lady 'Rosemary' Rosette, who despite being a beautiful _coquette_ she was as shy as they come when the spotlight shined off of her.

"Well, you don't need a husband in your life to support your life, I'm supporting myself with something I love doing. As long as I'm doing what I love then I'm happy," she said with a smile. "Le Bat en Rouge actually gave me the courage to be on my own,"

The girls nodded in understanding, they apparently all felt the same way when they began being a part of Le Bat en Rouge, after taking off their masks they all began to open up about their struggles. The _Petite_ _Filles_ were scared about living on their own and the pressures of their mothers' need to see them married off. The older dancers were at a point where they were eager to begin their lives but afraid to actually take that step.

"May I ask you something personal Miss Evy?" Lady 'Bonnie' Avril asked shyly.

"Of course," Hermione answered with a smile, taking a sip of her tea.

"Have you ever been…um…_intimate _with a man?"

A ripple of giggles erupted from the girls, causing the _Petite Fille_ to blush in embarrassment. Hermione rolled her eyes at the giggles and motioned the girl to sit next to her on the red couch.

"Are you thinking about being intimate with a man?" she bluntly asked the girl.

The girl blushed and nodded, "He's a student studying at the university, he wants to become a teacher and he told me…he loves me and wants to marry me."

The girls squealed in excitement while Hermione felt a pang of jealousy at the girl's happiness. They settled down and looked to her for her advice, she smiled and took the girls hand.

"If you feel that you will not regret being with him and treats you like the woman you deserve to be," she explained in a regretful tone, "Then you have your answer,"

"Have you ever been intimate with a man before?" Lady 'Sarah' Mistinguett asked.

"Sarah!"

The girls jumped at the sound of Ginny's voice from the doorway, "What _kind_ of a question is that? To ask a lady…"

"No that's quite all right Lady Madame," Hermione sighed and nodded, "I did…but certain circumstances led us to…drift apart,"

"Did you love him?" asked Lady 'Natalie' Demelza,

"I do—_did_! I did,"

The girls laughed at her slip of the tongue, but Ginny saw the look in her eyes and the regret that washed and disappeared over her face.

"Alright ladies," Ginny said clapping her hands for attention, "We're almost done with the night, so hop to! And after we're done I would like to discuss a favor that Lady Evelyn requested from us,"

The _Petite Filles_ smiled to each other, excited from just the suggestion, while the other girls waltz away to get ready for their final numbers. Ginny sat down next to Hermione as she finished her tea, wrapping her hands around her and smiling at her.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry for their abruptness with their questions,"

"Oh no, I'm quite all right, their wonderful Gin," she said, putting on a smile. "They're really confident in themselves and that's just great!"

Ginny nodded, not buying her happy and grateful façade. "You still love him."

Hermione turned away, and swallowing her pride she answered truthfully, "Yes…I still do,"

"And _you_ know he does too yes?"

She nodded, holding back her tears, "I know but…I can't Ginny, I just _can't_,"

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><p><strong>Songs Used:<strong>

Nowadays – Renee Zellwegger

A Call From The Vatican –Penelope Cruz

**Wow longest chapter so far! Go Me! Read & Review! Take POLL!**


	17. Come Here You Frantic Female

**Yes yes I know, I'm sorry for the delay and I have no excuses, I was going through a lazy period, hopefully after break I can get my act together.**

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><p>The next night grew cold as Hermione drove with McLaggen to Riddle Manor, earlier that morning McLaggen found her at the Hog's Head rehearsing for the next evening's performance, and 'requested' that she should attend with him to the manor where Riddle was hosting a party. A party that seemed to have no other purpose than to drink and socialize, with the occasional couple romping in an empty room and the men getting drunk on the free amenities.<p>

The drive was filled with McLaggen's voice, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to sedate him again. Draco was not with her tonight so she was on her own, and had to keep her wits about her tonight. She would be surrounded by London's elite but also London's most dangerous—from what McLaggen was saying the Carrow's, the Crouch's, Bellatrix Lestrange, were going to be there, along with more people that were associated with them but Hermione didn't recognize them by name.

From what Harry said they were all connected to the crime world one way or another, good or bad. The only thing she could do tonight was to keep her composure and listen to the people around her and pick up anything that might help them. Being surrounded by probably the most _dangerous_ people in the city was a little unnerving, and McLaggen's incessant babbling was helping matters.

McLaggen's driver finally pulled into the gates of the Riddle Estate. She couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as she saw the mansion at the end of the drive. It was old and dark despite the windows that were lite. There were already a few cars ahead of them, and the figures that stepped out of the expensive automobiles and walked to the house with an air of superiority was quite intimidating. But looking at them, it was clear that they were putting on an act to everyone else.

The car pulled up to the front of the mansion, and McLaggen held open the door and offered his hand to help her out. She accepted it and walked with him to the front door, her heart starting to beat a bit faster as they moved closer to the door, which was left open to let in the guests.

Standing in front of the doorway was a woman dressed in her black and white uniform. She took their coats to put away, giving Hermione a moment to a look around her at the front hall.

Everything was of a black mahogany and it looked eerie and daunting. The chandelier that hung brightly in the center of the foyer and casted a glum air about the room that went unnoticed by the other guests. McLaggen led her to her left that opened into the ballroom. Despite the spacious ceilings and largeness of the room, being surrounded by a sea of who were looking at her made Hermione feel like she was in a closed box.

"Ms. Granger!"

Hermione turned and managed a smile at seeing Alecto dressed in another gold dress with black netting and beading along the straps and to the V of her neckline. Her brother Amycus was standing next next to her dressed smartly in a black suit. Alecto with her cat-that-ate-the-canary smile unnerved her but her greeted her sweetly.

"Ms. and Mr. Carrow, how are you?"

"Please Ms. Granger, we can skip the formalities," Amycus said kissing her cheek in greeting.

"Same would go to you Amycus," she said with a smile.

"Of course," he agreed. "Now Cormac, why do think you have to hide Miss Hermione from the rest of us,"

"So true Cormac," Alecto purred, wrapping an arm around Hermione's, "Now I'm going to take her to meet a few lovely ladies."

Before McLaggen could say a word, Alecto whisked her into the crowd. As they passed by looks were thrown their way, mostly at Hermione but she ignored them. Alecto led her to the back corner of the ballroom, where a group of woman congregated.

"Ladies this is Hermione Granger, she accompanied Mr. McLaggen tonight," she introduce,

She gestured to two girls that were identical twins dressed in similar bias cut evening dresses, "Hermione this is Hestia and Flora Carrow, my nieces,"

She gestured to a lady dressed in a black-netted lace dress, "This is Elizabeth Burke, and she is Bartemius Crouch Jr.'s _soon to be_ fiancé."

The ladies chuckled, as Elizabeth stood a little more proud. Alecto turned to the next to girls, one wearing a olive green dress and the other wearing a long fur shrug, "And this is Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson, they just got back from their tour of Europe and are just in time for the marriage season,"

Hermione smiled brightly at the ladies, "It's a pleasure to meet you all,"

Pansy gave an unlady snort, "Well, I bet that this is the only expensive soiree that you've been to in awhile,"

"Pansy!" Alecto exclaimed, embarrassed by her.

'_Why on earth do I have to deal with this know_?' Hermione thought warily. "Well, actually, I believe that singing at Buckingham is still at the top of that list,"

The twins, even though they had a bored expression, looked interested, along with Elizabeth.

"Really, the queen mum?" Elizabeth asked, taking a sip from her champagne fluke.

"Yes, she enjoyed my singing when she heard one of her friends talking about seeing me one night,"

Pansy pursed her lips annoyed, "Well I guess singers don't exactly have a choice in where they sing do they?"

"Now Pansy, why must you droll so unattractively?"

Hermione barely glanced over her shoulder when she saw Bellatrix Lestrange slipped into their little circle. Her black silk satin silk evening dress contrasted with her skin beautifully, and the embroidered cowl neckline looked beautiful.

Bellatrix kept her gaze on Pansy as she sipped her drink, making Pansy look away from her gaze, only a little embarrassed. She turned to Hermione, "Don't mind her dearie, so how are you?"

Hermione smiled, "Quite well and yourself?"

Bellatrix gave a chuckle that sent a shiver down Hermione's spine, '_This woman is positively _dripping _with maliciousness.'_

"I would feel better if Tom spent more time with me than he did with these low-lifes he spends his time with at these parties,"

"Oh Bella!" Elizabeth exclaimed, laughing a bit. "You're just eager to throw him into a deserted room!"

The ladies laughed merrily and Hermione laughed along with them, as she casually glanced around her.

There seemed to be more men than woman and the men would occasionally dance but then would gather together and speak intently with one another. _All _suspicious but which conversation to overhear…?

"What about you Hermione?"

Hermione broke out of her reverie, "Pardon?"

"How are you with you're fellow?" Elizabeth inquired with a sly smile.

Hermione made herself look bashful, her hand coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear and her eyes casted downwards, "_Ladies,_ my relationship with Cor—Mister McLaggen is between him and myself—"

"And the mattress," the twins chimed together with a grin.

The ladies laughed at the shocked face Hermione displayed to the twins. The ladies, with the exception of Pansy, found Hermione's private innocence refreshing, _and_ amusing.

"Dear are you always so coy when speaking of such things?" Pansy questioned a little miffed.

Hermione eyed her "I like to believe it as…_mysterious._"

"And a mystery you are."

Hermione turned and smiled at the voice, but found it was Barty Crouch Jr. smiling at her.

"Mr. Crouch," Hermione greeted, "How are you this evening?"

"Quite well," he offered her a filled champagne fluke from his free hand. At her confused look he smiled, "I notice that you are the only one here without a drink."

"Oh, thank you," she said, accepting the glass from him.

"Not at all," he replied with a smile. "So what is it that you ladies are conversing about?"

"Nothing but the privacy of women's gossip," Millicent answered nonchalantly.

"I'm sure, then perhaps you wouldn't mind if I ask Miss Granger for a dance?"

"Uh…" Hermione was speechless for words.

"Hermione would _love _to dance with you," Alecto said taking her champagne fluke. "_Wouldn't_ you Hermione?"

"Huh? Oh yes!" she answered, her surprise disappearing quickly, "I loved to."

She took his offered hand and he smiled as he led her to the dance floor. He spun her under his arm then held her close as the piano began to play and the saxophone joined them.

_I've got trouble trouble trouble why can't you let me be?_

_There's trouble trouble trouble why can't you let me be?_

"Riddle says you're trouble," Crouch Jr. whispered into her ear, "To McLaggen especially."

Hermione smiled, turning her head slightly to look into his eyes. He was trying to seduce her but he was playing with fire.

She trailed her fingertips over the skin above his collar and breathed into his ear, "Isn't that what _every_ woman is, trouble?"

He stared into her eyes, enjoying this conversation more than he should. He let his hand travel down to the base of her back, practically at the swell of the woman's bum. "So are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Trouble,"

She eyed him with a sly smile, "My dear Mr. Crouch, I believe you are trouble yourself, at least from what I take from your hand's position on my backside."

He grinned madly, "Why are you with McLaggen if you don't mind me asking?"

"I do in fact, a lady's relationships is her own Mr. Crouch."

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to impose."

She opened her mouth to forgive him when she saw a streak of a blond head outside one of the window. Trying not to draw attention to herself she casually looked out and suppressed the urge to gasp in shock.

_What the bloody hell was Draco doing here?_

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><p>Riddle's security was a joke considering how paranoid the underground made him out to believe. Only three guards at the gate checking at the invitations, one at the entrance, five walking around the estate, and eight to ten inside the house itself. So, all guards where on the inside only listening in on the guests' conversation. <em>That's <em>where Riddle's paranoia was held, the paranoia that people are conspiring against him. Draco knew how to sneak by the guards, easy, but trying to get _in_ from the _outside_ was tricky, but not impossible. He traveled to the ballroom to see if he recognized anyone out of the sea of faces.

He saw McLaggen nursing his bourbon with Carrow and Crouch, Hermione was surrounded by at least six birds that looked at her like she was prey. He recognized Parkinson and Bulstrode from his younger years, the daughters that were affiliated with fathers of _Purus Sarguinis. _When he was young enough to understand anything, mostly dealing with his future, he was told he would have to marry any one of the daughters. That was the point he decided to never again fall in his father's footsteps.

In his own interest, he would rather be abused by his own father than marry someone who thought more about their looks than their brain. He sought out Hermione and smiled at seeing her in her elaborate black beaded dress, with her skin giving off a healthy glow against the black material.

He watched as McLaggen walked over to the group of ladies, a smirk on his proud arrogant face but it disappeared when he reached the ladies, faking a smile as genuine as a pathological liar. He couldn't help but feel a wave of protection as he saw her being lead to the dance floor, then almost be consumed by jealousy and rage when he saw where McLaggen's hand rested and how he whispered into her ear.

He was distracted for only a moment when Hermione looked his way. He ducked out of the window but he knew she saw him. She was going to kill him; she wanted to do this herself without Harry or his help. That obviously wasn't going to happen as long as cold-blooded killers and manipulators surrounded her in an enclosed space with not a lot of exits.

He dared to glance back into the window when he saw someone else, who was looking _straight_ at him.

_Narcissa_. Malfoy to be exact, his mother.

He didn't move partially out of fear that his mother might scream in terror, but she just stared at him with a pensive look. To Draco, she still looked as beautiful as ever in her form fitted dress with long sleeves that revealed her small shoulders and her hair in a braided chignon. They haven't spoken to each other since his father's trial and she decided to spend her time alone in peace, away from gossip and jeering comments only on occasion to come out into society, like tonight.

They held each other's gaze before she did something surprising…she smiled and _winked _at him, as if understanding what he was doing. He gave a curt nod and made himself scarce, hiding in the shadows casted by the hedge bordering around the house.

He moved until he got to the first dark window, which was a sitting room. Nothing there. Next was a library but no desk or anything that could hold any information, plus it doesn't look like it's been used in years. The next window was his target Riddle's study, covered in liquor glasses and bottles, cigars and papers over the table and floor. The only think that looked somewhat clean was the couch in the corner.

He tried the window, found it locked and sighed. _It was never easy. _He pulled a small knife out of his pocket and used it to pry the latch open. It was opened easy and with a quick look around he slipped in unnoticed, closing the window behind him. He pocketed his knife as he looked around, wondering where to start.

Draco began with the papers on the desk, figuring that Riddle would only toss worthless information on the floor for the help to clean. He thumbed through a pile of papers, efficiently skipping of the words to see if anything was of interest. He was about to start another piles of papers when a small handwritten note caught his eye. _PS _was scribbled at the top and beneath it was _Malfoy - Black Hand contact._

He stuffed it in his jacket when the door to the study rattled and he could a feminine giggle behind it. His eyes widened and his heart began to race, he was as good as dead if he didn't think fast.

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><p><strong>Songs Used:<strong>

Trouble Trouble - Betty Roche

**Read, review, take poll! You know I thrive on comments and input!**


	18. Trouble Trouble

**Sorry for delay, college comes first around here. Read and Enjoy!**

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><p>Hermione grimaced as McLaggen lead her away from the ballroom, already on his way to becoming a babbling drunk. The dance between her and Crouch was swift and painless, their 'playful' banter turned quite…<em>intimate<em> in their innuendos and their soft seductive comments, and from what Hermione saw Crouch was thoroughly enjoying it. She could _definitely_ use that later to her advantage.

McLaggen pulled her away from Crouch as soon as the song ended, breathing in her ear that he wanted 'alone time with her.' Without anyone batting an eye, he slipped her into a dark hallway, pulling her until they reach what Hermione assumed to be the study.

'_How romantic_,' she thought sarcastically, '_Men are original thinkers, aren't they_?'

As he turned the door handle, she heard the faint shuffle of papers. Panicking, Hermione did they only thing that seemed convenient at the time. She threw herself at McLaggen. They stumbled into the room; McLaggen surprised at first but deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her. She tugged him into the rooms, her eyes opened and searching the room quickly.

Just as she thought, Draco was standing behind the desk, struggling to stay in the shadows. He stood motionless at the sight of McLaggen's hands fondling her and pushing her into the wall next to the door. He hiked her up into his arms and attacked her neck, kissing sloppily. Hermione faked a moan and looked over his shoulder at Draco and remorse washed over her.

His body was tensed and his eyes were boring deep into hers'. He looked angry and hurt, and deep down she first to push McLaggen off of her and run to comfort him. But with all her willpower she had, she shook her head and mouthed '_Get_ _out_!' He seemed to snap out of his thoughts and then he shook his head, and began looking through the papers across the desk silently. She made small noises as McLaggen continued his fumbling, hopefully masking the sounds of the rustling papers.

She continued to glare at him, trying to catch his eye and tell him to hightail it out of there, but he continued to rifle through the papers, intent on trying to find something. She rolled her eyes and pulled McLaggen away from the swell of her breast, which he tried to go through the top of her dress. She kissed his dry lips soundly, opening her mouth when his tongue prodded for entrance. She figured as long as she kept McLaggen attention towards her, he wouldn't see Draco behind him.

She squeezed her legs and thrust her hips keep him distracted. He moaned loudly, and unforutnently she felt his arousal. It sickened her slightly and she felt like crying because a drunk was fondling her in front of who she thought to be her lover. She felt dirty and ashamed…but she would rather have McLaggen grope her than find Draco behind him.

She broke out of her thoughts when McLaggen kiss her lips again; her eyes widened in in surprise but replaced it with arousal. She glanced back over at Draco, seeing him slip through a black leather ledger of sorts, with a satisfied smirk gracing his lips. Hermione watched him as he slipped the ledger into his pocket, then looked up at her.

His stare was so intense that she couldn't move. Despite the dimness of the room, his grey eyes shone brightly, they seemed to be the only facial feature she could make out in the dark. He didn't look where McLaggen's hands where trying to get to underneath her dress or where her legs were about him, he looked straight into her eyes. It's was a hard stare that she wanted to look away from him and crawl into an early grave.

She couldn't though.

She wanted to scream at him, yell, cry, shout. Anything to get him to say the truth, the truth that everyone seemed to know except her. Tears burned in the corner of her eyes, she wanted to know, _now_.

"_Why_?" she whispered to him, the words falling out before she could stop them.

McLaggen looked up at her confused, he opened his mouth to speak when the door creaked open.

"Oi! McLaggen" a man hissed at him softly, "Riddle wants you,"

"Give me—"

"_Now,"_

McLaggen groaned, removing his hands from Hermione's person and helping her down.

"You can find your way back?" he asked, not really caring for the answer.

"Of course," she answered, smoothing out her dress.

The two men left and Hermione looked about the room.

It was empty.

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><p>Draco slumped underneath the window, his thundering heart starting to calm down. It was by sheer luck that he was able to jump out of the window unnoticed by the guards, McLaggen, and the man that enter. The voice was familiar, probably one of Riddle's cronies. Why would they need to speak with McLaggen though? He doesn't know anything and it wasn't like he was a valuable, so why keep him close? Why…?<p>

'_Why?'_

Hermione's whispered question rang through his head, like an insistent echo. He ran his hands through his hair, swearing under his breath. He understood that throwing herself at McLaggen was to distract him but that didn't stop him from wanting to rip him off of her and let out his pent-up angry on the sod. It took all his willpower to continue looking through the papers and _not_ stare at the two. The look in her eyes was painful, and it lingered still. He felt like he needed a drink, a _very _strong drink that would burn long enough to help him forget.

He wanted to tell her, every single bloody detail that would keep him awake until the wee hours of the night. But it was one simple question that made him keep his mouth shut, would you rather find Hermione alive and enjoying her life or find her six feet under by the hands of your sadistic father. It was as simple as that. It was better for everyone if she stayed in the dark, but with how she looked at him, pleading and reaching out, he might break that promise.

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><p>After Hermione fixed her hair and deemed herself presentable, she made her way out into the dark hallway. She walked down the hall and entered unnoticed into the ballroom. As a waiter with a tray of champagne passed her by, she helped herself to one and took a long sip.<p>

"I'd be careful, my dear,"

Hermione turned, and almost dropped her glass in surprise at the woman behind her.

Narcissa Malfoy stood behind in her effortless elegance, Draco's _mother_ to be more exact.

"These drinks could go to your head."

Hermione smiled, "We both know women have the ability to hold their liquor as opposed to some of these…_fine _gentlemen."

Narcissa returned the small and clink her glass with Hermione's, "I will toast to that,"

After a moment of silence, Narcissa spoke, "He's here?"

Hermione understood that she meant Draco, "He's gone,"

Narcissa nodded, looking about the room, "Our family was built on secrets, generations of Malfoys have been taught that secrets are what keep us alive. For the first time in nine generations, my son distinguished himself."

Hermione couldn't help her curiosity, "In what way?"

Narcissa stared softly at her, "He doesn't care about what would happen to him, he lies to protect the people he loves."

Hermione shook her head, "Forgive me Madame, but I cannot believe that."

"And why not?"

She sighed, "Because…you shouldn't lie to the people you love in the first place."

Narcissa smiled slightly, "Try explaining that to the generations of Malfoys."

"Oh, please don't think that I'm speaking ill of your family,"

"No dear it's alright," she said with a brush of her hand, "Unfortunately the men of our family have made it a trait to lie about everything, except Draco. At a young age he refused to take part in any sort of his ancestor's legacy, I helped him as much as I could but…being a woman in a man's world…"

The silence stretched between them, both mindlessly watching the room and alone with their own thoughts. Hermione absentmindedly turning the stem of her fluke about her hands, thinking over what Narcissa said.

_Lie for the person they love, _she thought to herself. She did notice the looks he would give her, even in the study they were filled with longing and he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. She knew of his father who wasn't the kindest and sympathetic of men, created a life for his son that was as confining as a cage. He never elaborated on the topic; it mostly brought anger to his voice, dripping with disgust. She felt a need to protect him. To gather him up in her arms and never let him slip away.

_It seems that things don't turn out the way we wish them to be_, Hermione thought to herself, sipping the last of her champagne.

"It's a pity…"

Hermione turned back to Narcissa, "Pardon?"

Narcissa sighed, "Love isn't the way it is in the stories we read to our children. Love conquers all or that a woman will be rescued by a certain knight on his white steed. Those stories, even though we still wish for them to be true, they are nothing but dreams that you vaguely remember when you wake up."

Hermione could help but be drawn in by this woman's simple words of wisdom. As she looked closely at the woman, Hermione saw the lines and contours of her wisdom and experienced years within her eyes and the hands that delicately held the champagne fluke.

"What do we do?" Hermione questioned, "If our childhood memories are nothing but foolish day dreams?"

Narcissa tut-ted shaking her head, "Now I never said that they were foolish."

Hermione narrowed her eyes confused.

"I just said that our childhood fairy tales are going to have to change now that we aren't our younger selves."

"What would you suggest? Now that we're adults?"

Narcissa smiled cheekily, "The damsel in distress should save the knight in shining armor and stand on her own to feet to fight for what she wants in her life."

With that statement she left Hermione, waving at a trio of ladies who were smiling brightly at her leaving her with Narcissa's advice running through her head.

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><p><strong>That's it for now, sorry it's short! But review anyway please!<strong>

**I got my photobucket up and I'll continue to add photos! It should be on my profile.**

**I'm also looking for a Beta, to help improve my writing ability, any takers?**


	19. With This Man of Mine

Draco walked up to Potter's front door, with the ledger clenched in his hand. It was like he was walking with a target on his back as he held the ledger. He couldn't understand the writing so he had to take it with him to the Potter's—where _one _person, who _lived _for puzzles, could help back figure out the ledger.

He knocked on their door, and leaned against the wall waiting. The morning fog was disappearing and the sun was coming through the thick clouds. A new day but last night still lingered in his mind—Hermione grimacing against McLaggen's advances, the look on her face when she locked eyes with him, the questions written all over her face. It's like she's slowly picking off his stubborn exterior with talon-like claws, trying to slowly tear away to get to the answers she desperately wanted.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration when the door opened.

"Malfoy?" Harry said surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too," he answered. He held up the ledger, "Think she can figure this out?"

Harry glared at him, "You _know_ I don't want her involved with this,"

Draco sighed, "Well, she's the only one that figure this out, and we _don't_ need anyone else involved."

"You're involving _my wife,_" Harry hissed.

"It's better than someone else!"

"Why don't you boys ask me in person and _I _can decided," Luna's voice called out from a room up the stairs.

Harry grimaced and Draco stared up at the stairs.

"How does she…"

"Don't ask," said Harry, stepping aside to let him into the house, "I still haven't figured it out."

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><p>Luna breathed in the morning air from the window of the bedroom. Harry was somewhere downstairs, and if she sensed correctly so was Draco, but for now she was content with just sitting along the sill with her thoughts to keep her company.<p>

She felt another kick from the child within her. She smiled down at her rounded stomach and placed a hand over the spot it kicked. The doctor said she wasn't due until two months time and that they shouldn't be worried at the smallness of her stomach, the baby _and _the mother were healthy. That's all that mattered to them.

She glanced out the window again, smiling at the trees and small backyard they had. There was an impressive oak in the back, with a swing that Harry made for her birthday gift. He loved that she took the simple joys in life and that something as simple as a swing could make her happy. When they found out she was expecting, they spent the entire afternoon by the swing, Luna sitting on the pillow Harry made her sit on while he pushed her gently and spoke lovingly to each other and they child that would be coming into their lives and the world.

As she stared outside the window, she failed to hear Harry enter the room with a cup of tea in each hand. Harry was thankfully she didn't notice him; it gave him a moment to look at his beautiful wife.

Her white-blond hair was in gentle waves the caught the sun and warmed her face. She was barefooted and wore a sleeveless golden yellow dress that looked gorgeous on her. She had her signature serene expression that made him fell at ease, and then her with her hand upon her rounded belly seemed to slow time for a moment as he looked at her with new admiration. His wife carrying his child; his family.

Suddenly, she glanced up and at seeing Harry she smiled.

"My tea must be getting cold by now Harry,"

He smiled at her and walked across the room to her. He handed her the teacup and sat on the edge of the bed across from her.

She took a sip and sighed, the warmth of the tea wash over her and relaxed her easily. Harry smiled as he saw her demeanor change.

"I'm glad my tea making skills have improved,"

She smiled at him as she took another sip of her tea, "Very much improved."

He grinned, and then pulled out the ledger, "Draco thought you could figure this out, seeing as you're good at puzzles."

Luna smirked, "Ah, an _ulterior _motive, I've should have known when you made me tea."

Harry shrugged bashfully, "You _are _the one who has a talent for ciphers,"

He wagged the book, trying to entice her. She eyed the ledger and the smirk on her face grew, setting her tea down, she took the ledger and hit her husband lightly on the head with it.

"Try not to bribe me next time love, blackmail does not become you, and Draco stop sulking in the hallway."

Harry grinned as Draco came in, scratching the back of his head embarrassed, and watched her as she opened the small book and scanned the pages, giving her the silence she needed to concentrate. As she read through the contents, her brow began to furrow in thought and she mouthed her thoughts softly to herself.

"It's an asymmetrical key algorithm," she said to them, her eyes fixed to the text. "This haven't been used in awhile, but it's the same principle as most cryptography. With this they used two separate keys, but you need to know them both to unencrypt the ledger."

"Can you find the two keys?" Draco asked, leaning against the door.

Luna shook her head, "It would be two words that they would know themselves, the combination of pairs would be endless."

"Do you know the ledger details?" Harry asked.  
>Luna bit her lip, "It seems to be money transfers of some kind, but without the two keys I couldn't know what they were for."<p>

Harry nodded in understanding, "Anything else you can see?"

Luna shook her head turning the book upside down and flipping through the pages again. Suddenly something caught her eye towards the inside cover of the book. She pulled back the pages and squinted at the smeared writing. Her eyes widened at what she read.

She looked at them, "_Where_ did you get this?"

Draco shook his head, "We can't say Luna, you know that. The less you know the better,"

Luna gave him a look, "Yes, and giving me a ledger to solve is not involvement at _all_."

He ran a hand through his hair, "I know, but…we…_I_ didn't have anyone else to ask."

She pursed her lips but seemed to except his statement, "Is this what Hermione is involved in as well?"

Harry nodded, and Draco turned his head away, his body stiffened.

Luna let out a breath shakily breathe and turned to her husband, "This is a _yearly_ ledger, and if it's what I believe it is…it's the ledger collection of Salazar Slytherin."

Harry racked his head at hearing the name, "Where have I heard that name before?"

"My father," Luna answered for him, standing to sit next to him. "When you first met him he was working on an article for the Quibbler about the financial conspiracy of the world's wars.

"He wrote that since the War of America's Revolution there have been a group of wealthy families that financed the war believing that people should be of a pure necessity, coming from wealth and nobility. Anyone who was not up to their standards where…taking care of. They were considered 'heroes' to the group. They were intelligent to keep such business away from the public eye so they affiliated themselves with the officials and _made _it go away.

"Since America's first victory they moved back to British soil, hoping to gain some ground in controlling them. They made themselves involved with other wars, financing off of any money that can be made from them. My father believes that they are still breathing and… were involved in the First World War."

The air in the room still and grew heavy, and Luna handed the ledger to Harry and walked out of the room. Draco tried to say something as Luna walked passed him, but he couldn't seem to form the words. Harry ran his hands through his hair and sighed in angst.

"This is getting complicated Malfoy," he said, not to Draco but more to the wall, "This goes deeper than we thought, forget the papers, this…_cult _is beginning to plan the next World War."

Draco didn't answer; his thoughts were flying around his head. The note with _Black Hand _scribbled lazily across the scrap of paper with his last name made sense now. His father had connections with the group and they in turn were the ones that pulled the trigger to the First World War by assassination of the Archduke of Austria, Franz Ferdinand.

"Their starting it now," he breathed absentmindedly.

"_What_?" Harry hissed, "What are you talking about?"

"The Ledger," he said, grabbing the book of the bed and heading out the room, "I know who can decode it."

"Wait, Malfoy!" he called out after him, "Who? Wait a minute!"

Draco opened the front door, ready to run out, but halted as saw the figure in front of him.

Hermione had her hand raised as if to knock upon the door. She looked beautiful, wearing her hair in two braids and in a green dress with a grey and gold sweater. However, she looked tired, as if last night's took a greater toll on her like it did him.

"Um…I'm here for Luna," she explained, avoiding his eyes.

"She's…up stairs," he answered, but didn't move. "'Mione I—"

"Don't please," she said, trembling as she spoke, "Let me through,"

Draco lifted a hand to her chin, "Hermione—"

She avoided his hand and moved briskly past him and up the stairs, leaving Draco standing in the doorway following as she disappeared.

* * *

><p>Narcissa glanced up as she heard the front door bells ring, her house was not that vast but being surrounded by the books in her library muffled the ringing of the bells that hung by her front door. She closed her book and set it on the side table next to her favorite chair that faced her garden and the tall windows. As she walked to her front door, she smoothed her skirt of non-existent wrinkles and her hair of imaginary hairs that would have fell out of her chignon.<p>

She took a breath and calmed her features; she opened her door and prepared to greet her guest. However, upon seeing their face, she smirked.

"I was wondering when you would be coming by my boy,"

Draco smiled, nodding his head, "You know I try to visit mother,"

She eyes him, "Obviously not hard enough."

She opened the door wider and walked back into her house. Draco grinned and followed her, shutting the door behind him.

His mother's home was actually the family's summer home, having moved out and sold the family manor as soon as she was free of her husband's soulless emotions and acted on her decision to get as far away from the monster as humanly possible.

The summer home had a more 'homely' feel than Draco's childhood manor house, which to him half resembled a prison with the walls dark enough to be considered black and the lights so dim that you're blinded by the sun when you walk outside. He spent most of his summer holiday away from school in this house, but despite being away from his father he had his goons keep a close eye on them.

The summer home had many windows but they were usually shut and covered. When Narcissa moved in she threw back the curtains and opened the windows letting the breeze and sunlight reveal the warm mahogany floors and darkly tan colored walls.

It was livable now, his mother gave the place he considered a safe haven life again.

He followed his mother into her library, but instead of sitting at her seat by the window she sat on the couch and poured them a cup of tea from her set on the table.

"Now," she stated before handing him a cup, "What is it you want to see me about?"

He smiled, and then brought out the ledger, handing it to her, "Can you help with this?"

Narcissa's eyes watched him with a scrutinizing stare as she took the ledger in her small thin hands.

"Please?" he added sincerely.

Her expression soften as she opened the ledger, she eyes slowly taking in the writing. Her eyes narrowed as she flipped through the pages then glanced up at him, staring at him with knowing eyes.

"We uh…" Draco shifted under his mother's stares, "We don't know the key words to…understand it."

She sighed and closed the book, setting it upon her lap, "Draco…I _know_ what this is and I understand that you _need_ to know what is in this but…do _you_ understand what you are getting into, all three of you?"

Draco nodded, "What do you know mother?"

She looked at her son with a conflicted gaze then looked out towards her garden forlorn. They were still in bloom despite the cold nights and looked brighter as the moved with the wind_. _In the five and a half years since she move to the summer home, she felt safe but continued to feel unnerved at the thoughts of her husband and getting involved in his business.

_Could it be possible to stop this once and for all…?_

"It was 1914 and I was married to your father for barely a year before finding that I was pregnant with you," she smiled as she remembered, "I was looking for your father at home to tell him when I found him consulting a group of men over a similar ledger…"

Her face paled as she remembered the men; dressed in dark expensive suits and coats with their hair greased back and away from their face. Their pale skin was unnerving and their cold expressionless faces sent chills down her spine, especially when they seemed to eye her like starving dogs.

"…I heard them discussing about a group, they said they were called the Black Hands…and a few months later it was discovered that the Black Hands were apart of the Archduke of Austria assassination that began the World War...It didn't take long for me to realize that your father…sadly had a part in it."

The silence was strained between them as Draco watch his mother, who was staring blindly at nothing, her mind recalling memories she wish she didn't have.

"I was quiet, of course, being the good wife my mother taught me to be. I was distant as well but your father didn't notice, as long as his heir and first born son was born it was obvious he didn't have a need for me anymore…" she shook her head, riding herself of the feelings. "But months into the war it was became obvious that your father was gambling in the war and benefiting from either side like it was a _game_. I…couldn't stand by and let him destroy people's lives, so I asked your godfather for help."

"_Severus_?"

Narcissa gave Draco a small smile, "He may be quiet and too intelligent for his own good but I've trusted him with my life and together we looked for a way to get Lucius to dig himself into a hole. Severus' contacts through the ministry and his personal alliances made it a bit easier to breathe at night knowing he was working on bringing these men and…Lucius to the light.

Draco nodded, "What happened then?"

"Well, we couldn't find anything, Lucius was clever at hiding his tracks and we gave up hope. Then about five years ago Severus finally found something that could put him behind bars."

"What was it?" Draco asked

She looked sadly at him, "We had a trust fund in your name, but unbeknownst to me it wasn't for your use, but for a separate benefactor altogether. The money that was in the account was used to regulate money to his…_'friends'_ that needed it. From there Severus found bonds, stock and even ledgers that tied him in many cases that were involved with the police and criminals. Thankfully, as you remember, we were cleared of being involved in his business.

"But your father has ties and secrets with practically the entire society of London and manages to 'escape' his prison for a day with a few well placed bribes here and there."

Draco nodded, remembering his last encounter with his father; him and his mother knew that there would be no way to be rid of him.

"From what you told me, it proves what we found out."

"And what's that?"

"Lucius was involved in a group of…well men that considered themselves to be the _elite _above everyone else."

Narcissa scoffed, "Oh, is that all?"

He grinned, "Yes well…this group, from what I was told, they…create the wars and…they benefit off of them, whether they when or lose."

She shook her head in shame, "_That_ I believe without a single doubt."

They remained silent, Narcissa contemplating her thoughts while Draco watched her. Slowly she stood up and walked to her desk, then pulling out a scrap of paper and a pen her scratched out a few remembered words.

"Your father was too self-involved to realize I was in his presence when he was going over his books."

She walked back to her son and handed him the paper along with the ledger. He smiled and stood, taking his mother into his arms with a hug. She in turn wrapped her arms around her grown son and held tight.

He pulled away from her sadly, "Be safe mother."

"You should be worrying about yourself dearie, and that young woman of ours."

He looked at the floor avoiding her mother gaze, "That…_bastard_ of a father ruined my…_our_ chances of being free of him."

"Draco, listen to me," she said urging him to look up, "Your father does _not _control your life, you are strong enough to protect what you have! Don't let _him _decide what is good for you, you love her more now then you ever did before and that's always enough to start anew."

He managed a nod to his mother before turning to walk out of the room.

"May I at least see the ring?" Narcissa called to him, sitting back down on the couch to take a sip at her tea.

Draco couldn't help but grin at his all-knowing mother. He turned and walked back to her pulling the engagement ring out of his pocket and holding out to her.

She smiled at seeing the elegant but simple ring, believing that it fit the young girl perfectly after speaking with her that night. It was a simple band encrusted in tiny diamonds that held onto a square bed, which cradled a perfect diamond.

"It's beautiful," she glanced up at him as he pocketed the ring. "But speak with her, a woman can only wait so long before she can forgive the man she loves."

"Wait…sh-she does?" he asked uncertain.

She smiled at her son's doubt, "Last night made it quite obvious, but she's suffering dearie, she deserves to know and understand what happened…and that you love her."

Draco nodded his understanding, deep in thought as he went over his mother's words.

"Thank you mother, but I need to go now."

She gave him a nod, "I understand but be careful Draco, _all_ of you."

"I will, mother, be careful as well."

And with a swift kiss goodbye on his mother's cheek, he left the room and out of the house. He stopped when he reached his car, looking down at the paper his mother gave him. Her elegant cursive formed two words, and seeing them made his hands clench, crushing the paper in his fist.

_Snake. _

_Blood._

He sighed, "_One step closer_."

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><p><strong>Sorry it took so long, I'm suffering from Summeritice, so sorry! <strong>

**I'll try to buckle down and get to writing! Love ya and Review!**

**PS new POLL so please VOTE!**

**PSS STILL looking for a beta especially with a new story I want to get a head start on, so drop me a line if your interested!**


	20. So I Do What I Can

**Forgive me dear readers, my beta's computer is having problems and I _just_ finished my summer class, I'll try to write more before school starts again or a job suddenly reveals itself to me! Plus I have thousands of ideas spinning in my head that I want to get a head start on!**

**New one-shot _Peanut Butter and Nutella _for the Twin Exchange challenge read and review!**

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><p><em>A tiger is a tiger, not a lamb, Mein Herr.<em>

_You'll never turn the vinegar to jam, Mein Herr._

_So I do…what I do…when I'm through…_

_Then I'm through…and I'm through…_

_Toddle-loo!_

Hermione sipped her wine as she watched Lady Rebecca Lovibond dance. It was a morning rehearsal at Le Bat en Rouge, all the Ladies dressed in their costumes and corsets going through their routines and their vocals. Ginny asked Hermione to come and offer her advice to the young girls and she would give a comment here and there, '_Don't lift your chin so high, let them see your eyes,' 'Take the turn slow and blink slowly to a man with a smile right there.' _They were quite good on their own, but a few were overly compensating for their nerves it seemed.

The Ladies that were relaxing and watching the other girls, wearing robes over their costumes with their hair down and their masks resting atop their heads. Mage, Sandra, Miss Barrow and Astrid, the 'stage mothers' sat at an alcove table with a pile of costumes and their own pot of tea watching the girls and talking among themselves.

Hermione sat in front of the stage in the middle of the room, taking in all that she could. She missed this part of her life, the sultry attractive power she still had originated from this very stage, but she missed the flirting and girliness she could create while wearing a mask. It was…a mystery that was provocative and intriguing, for only a moment to be able to sensually converse with a man who is unaware of you identity. Le Bat en Rouge gave woman courage to be bold and use their sexuality in a way that made them feel powerful and confident enough to survive for themselves.

"Enjoying the show?"

Hermione turned and smiled when she saw Ginny, in her brown velvet tan robe over her plum and dark orange beaded sleeping gown, with her hair cascading in waves and pulled to rest on her right shoulder.

"Always," she answered, gesturing to the chair, "Please sit,"

Ginny sat next to her, crossing her legs as she did so. They watched in silence for a moment as Lady Lovibond danced and sang about the stage

_The continent of Europe is so wide, Mein Herr.  
>Not only up and down, but side to side, Mein Herr.<br>I couldn't ever cross it if I tried, Mein Herr.  
>So I do…what I can…<br>Inch by inch…Step by step…Mile by mile…_

_Man by man…_

"I wanted to talk to you about the meeting," Ginny said, her eyes fixated on Lovibond.

Hermione turned to look at her, "Yes?"

She was silent for a moment, her face masked of what thoughts were forming in her mind.

"This is dangerous Hermione, they weren't even discreet in what they were saying in front of the girls…"

"What did they say?"

"They said…'Finally the filth of the world will be destroyed, we can finally live in peace knowing that the world…is back to its purpose of hierarchy.'"

Hermione could feel a cold chill at hearing her speak. She felt like a cold clammy finger trailed down her spine, spreading a cold that sank deep into her bones.

"I'm sorry Ginny, but I need to know what else they said,"

She nodded, her face quite stoic, "They were young, entirely too immature to understand what they were mouthing off to and with the amounts of liquor they were having I wasn't surprised. There was Crouch and Carrow, regulars you know? There where two other men, they weren't regulars but they were…_comfortable _here with the girls."

The phrase was understood between the two of them. Sometimes men were comfortable enough with the Ladies of Le Bat en Rouge to push the lines of respect. They had guards that would stop any man from going to far, but they were getting clever and sly with their advances. Thankfully, the girls were brave enough to fend for themselves and land a hit or two before they got away from them.

"They talked about a lot of things but they mostly argued about a man."

"His name?"

"Um…Adolf and they mentioned a uh…Benito. They were discussing getting them into power, who needed to be replaced for them to be in control."

Hermione nodded, "Anything else?"

Ginny shook her head, "They dismissed the girls after that, Crouch said they didn't need them flocking about them."

Hermione sighed defeated. Gaining power, Adolf, Benito, none of these things lead them any closer to the big picture; at least to her they didn't seem to be. Since McLaggen didn't steal the files and is most likely a fall man, who stole them? How? Why, why did they feel the need to put their own home in jeopardy? Did they contain something other than security measures? Was this, _Purus Sarguinis_, really behind this, and if so what did they have in store?

These unanswered questions set Hermione on edge, like some dark cloud a mile away was crawling towards them, bringing an impending apocalypse. She wanted to know what was coming, this uncertainty of what is or what will happen was settling like a rock in the pit of her stomach.

It's a feeling like this that Hermione wished Draco was in her arms.

She stiffened, the thought surprising her. She _shouldn't_ be feeling like this for him, he left her. No explanation, no letter, not even a damn goodbye. She woke one morning, _in his bed_, and he wasn't there. Days passed by and he didn't come back. She felt like her heart was cut for her chest during those days, uncertainty and grief washing over her like cold water, leaving her numb and cold.

* * *

><p><em>She moaned happily as she felt the sun beat down on her face and she stretched out her arms above her. Her hands touch the mirror that they used as a headboard for the bed; it's smooth glass cool against her hand. She couldn't help but blush thinking of how the tall mirror has been incorporated into their lovemaking. Neither of them could help stealing a glance at the mirror in the throes of their passion and be overpowered by the erotic notion of watching themselves make love. <em>

_She felt the space next to her and realized it was empty and cold. Opening her eyes fully she saw the empty rumpled sheets. She looked about the bedroom, sitting up and gathering the sheets to her bare chest._

"_Draco?" She called out._

_Silence answered her. _

_She slipped to the edge of the bed, the sheets running across her warm skin. She picked up her nightgown off of the floor and slipped it back on. _

_With each step she took, looking on the balcony, the terrace, kitchen, living room, feelings from last night crept into her memory._

_The way he kissed her, so slow and almost desperate it made her feel like she would never see him again. His arms would wrap around her, holding her so close that they could feel the hearts beating wildly against their chest. He acted like she was going to disappear right before him, slip through his fingers like the London fog. He looked at her as if memorizing every detail to memory, his hands following every curve her body had and feeling the smoothness of her skin. _

_She looked through the entire house, anywhere he could have been. But it was just her and their empty home, completely alone with no answer…_

* * *

><p>"Lady Evelyn?"<p>

Hermione jumped at the sound of a girl's voice. Looking about her, she saw two girls wrapped in robes and Ginny's chair empty next to her.

"Um, yes?"

"We wanted to know if you could stay longer," the girl was hesitant, as if she would yell at them for requesting such a thing. "We have a few more numbers we would like your opinion on."

She smiled at them, they joyful eagerness contagious, "I would love to Ladies…?"

"Oh, Lady Ginevra," the blond haired girl gestured to herself, then the redhead, "and this is Lady Avril."

She gave a chuckle, "And your _names_?"

Lady Avril smiled, "My name is Bonnie and this is Virginia,"

Hermione nodded, "Are you girls up next?"

They nodded happily, and then turned to head backstage to get ready. The feelings of her memories still lingering bitterly in her mind, and she was sure that wouldn't be disappearing anytime soon.

* * *

><p>Wind blew hot air as Draco, Harry and Blaize walked along the edge of the park. The coats slung over their arms, with their sleeves rolled up. Draco glanced towards the inside of the park. The weather was getting hotter, summer was ending and fall was soon on its way. People were trying to find a bit of shade away from the sun, but were still trying to enjoy themselves. They were envious of the couples' cheerful conversation, their walk was somber and the topic of conversation one they didn't wish to be discussing but had to.<p>

"Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini," Blaise drawled out lazily, "Of _course_ they would be connected to them."

"It's an alliance," Harry added, "They're making connections and saving their hides."

Draco nodded, displeased, "And if they decide to switch alliances they can give any information or secrets as leverage to come out scot-free."

"This is going to get dangerous boys," Blaise noted, sitting down on a park bench, "From what I heard, that Hitler sod is a manipulator and a easy talker. He's making his way up in Germany politics and gathering followers."

"The _Socialist German Workers Party_," Harry added, sighing a bit in defeat. "Young German boys are easily buying into it, and they have no idea what they're putting on the line."

"What's worst is we can't do anything: no proof, no inquiry," Draco said, running a frustrated hand through his hair, "We're as clueless as the Minister."

Harry gave a small chuckle, "I wish I _was_ in the dark, better than knowing what _might_ happen…do you remember the first? I was four when it started?"

The silence of the other two answered his question.

They were young during the first war and even though they were twenty years deeper into their lives, voices on the radio explaining the effort on the front, people on edge and staying in homes, scared for their own lives and their families, nothing really mattered the couple years as the trench warfare spread. It was not knowing what was going to happen that scared the young self the most, yes they were an island apart from the mainland of Europe but that made them feel like a target. Water on all sides, if they chose to target the United Kingdom they would be like rats fleeing a burning ship.

Blaise spoke up, breaking their thoughts, "Do you think you can stop this?"

Harry and Draco didn't dare look at each other. They knew the answer, but neither wanted to say it.

The next World War was already on its way.

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><p><strong>Song Used:<strong>

**Mein Herr—**Cabaret


	21. A Tiger is a Tiger Not a Lamb

**Thank you to Alexa Mileva-my beta-for editing this chapter, hopefully more to come!**

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><p>Hermione forced a smile at McLaggen as he opened the car door and offered his hand. For a few nights, before her shows, McLaggen insisted on taking her out to dinner to converse with his other companions usually consisting of Alecto Carrow and her brother, Amycus, Bellatrix Lestrange and Bartimus Crouch Jr., as well as the pug-nosed. Pansy Parkinson and whatever man she felt like bringing that night. Although, she spent more time hanging on McLaggen's words than she did her consort, giving Hermione half a mind to just let her have him.<p>

These dinners were useless to her now; McLaggen was no longer an interest, however, he refused to let her out of his reach. Despite her many excuses, McLaggen dragged her to lavish dinners, thrilling races, and even his home. Thankfully, he was always drunk by the time they got there, and she managed to leave without him remembering the next day. She'd never met anyone so _persistent_ in his pursuit of women.

Tonight, he brought her to the Westin Hotel that housed a pure white dining hall with a pianist playing soft melodies in the corner of the room. McLaggen led her to a secluded table near the wall, where Bellatrix, Pansy, Alecto and Amycus sat. Bellatrix watched Hermione sit down across from her at the table, as her date began talking animatedly, leaving the women to converse amongst themselves. She took a drag from her cigarette holder and blew the smoke into the air above them.

"How are you this evening, Miss Granger?" she questioned, tapping her fag against the ash tray.

Hermione smiled at her, "Very well, and yourself?"

"The company has suddenly turned sour," she answered stiffly.

"I can't help but agree," Pansy murmured so only Hermione could hear. She took a sip of her wine as an attempt to hide her smirk. It did not work.

"Bella, don't be so rude!" Alecto scolded, then turned to Hermione with a soft smile "She is a little miffed that Riddle couldn't accompany her tonight."

Hermione couldn't help but shiver as she recalled her last encounter with the snake. Thankfully, this time she didn't have to be subjected to his ravenous gaze.

"Get stuffed, Alecto," Bellatrix snapped, narrowing her eyes at her friend, "That's none of your business and _certainly _none of hers."

Alecto waved her hand nonchalantly, brushing away her warning, "He was to meet with some friends to discuss business."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Hermione tried to sound sincere.

Bellatrix huffed in acknowledgement and took another drag from her fag.

Alecto shook her head at her company before resting her elbows on the table and setting her chin on her entwined hands. She looked fondly at Hermione.

"Are you to sing tonight?"

Hermione smiled. Alecto was kind enough to her, although she acted like one of those gossiping-giggling girls that surrounded her during school. However, she was _much_ better company than the two pejorative women beside her.

"Yes, but not here," she explained, "I'm singing at the Ivory, a few blocks down the way."

"Is that all you do?" Pansy questioned, the insinuation hanging in the air between the two, "Singing…?"

"Yes," Hermione said curtly, "But I do quite well. Many hotels and music halls ask for me and pay me well."

"Is that where you met Cormac – singing?" Alecto asked, "How romantic ― meeting him as you sing!"

Bellatrix laughed at Alecto with a raised eyebrow, "A little juvenile, wouldn't you say?"

"Not at all!" she gasped, surprised at the notion, "Lord only knows that _you_ need a romance in your life."

"Love is fickle," Bellatrix drawled out, "Who honestly needs love, nowadays?"

A lump filled Hermione's throat upon hearing the statement. She told Harry and Draco what Ginny confided in her and Blaise provided information of his own he'd picked up here and there.

_Another_ World War.

As a child, it seemed that fear consumed everything around them, choking the happiness around them. Loved ones going off to fight, leaving behind doubts of their return. To think that it could happen again…it was devastating.

"Is that what you will be wearing to sing?"

Hermione glanced at Pansy who was giving her ruched pale pink dress a critical look.

"Uh, no," she said, "I have a dress at the Ivory,"

That was a lie, of course; why wear two dresses the same night when one would suffice? She had money, yes ― to pay for her room and her food. What was left she kept to herself, not feeling the need to waste money when she could save it for a rainy day. But being surrounded by people like Bellatrix, Alecto and Pansy, it was hard not to be intimidated by wealth. Alecto was living off her deceased husband's money and family wealth; Bellatrix came from old money and with her arm draped across Riddle's most of the time, she was kept in jewels and elegant garbs; and Pansy… Pansy was the spoiled girl with a line of lovers willing to spend any amount to remain in her good graces.

"Well," Pansy drawled out, "You should consider a personal dresser."

_And yours is doing a _tremendous _job, _Hermione thought, eyeing Pansy's fur wrap, pink peplum dress and layered pearl and diamond necklaces.

"Wherever I sing they are considerate enough to provide someone to help me get ready for the night," Hermione stated, ignoring her stare, "And I believe I'm old enough to dress myself."

Alecto laughed, "Well, you dress well from what I've seen of other singers."

Pansy turned away, snapping at a waiter to refill her glass.

"I do well for myself," she exclaimed humbly, "I am at the point where I have the freedom to choose where and when I want to sing."

"At least you're independent," Bellatrix commented, but the look she gave her was almost mocking.

"I'm not one to idly sit around and do nothing while life passes me by."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, as if challenging her, "Really?"

"Yes," she answered with a smile, "And with so much money you can afford to, as well,"

Alecto gave a nervous laugh as the women stared each other down, "I can drink to the good life…what about you, ladies?"

Despite the hostile stares she was receiving from Bellatrix and Pansy, Alecto made the evening more enjoyable. McLaggen and Amycus were too absorbed in their own conversations and their own drinks to notice the resentment between the girls.

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><p>McLaggen brushed up against her as they walked down the street, the liquor in him starting to take effect. They were steps away from the back entrance of the Ivory and Hermione was beginning to regret her decision to walk to the hotel now that she had a tipsy man running into her at every moment.<p>

"Such a beautiful night, isn't it?" he cried loudly looking up into the sky.

"Yes it is," she said, not sparing him a glance. Instead, she searched the streets for a cab to take him home.

"I could stare up there _all_ day,"

"You might, McLaggen."

Hermione jumped at the voice that spoke up from behind her. Before she could turn around, two strong hands wrapped around her arms and pulled her away from McLaggen. She looked frantically around her.

"Don't fret miss," drawled out the voice, "We just want a quick chat with McLaggen."

The voice belonged to a portly man who looked much like an overstuffed rat. His graying hair was oiled back and he wore an expensive looking tuxedo and carried a black walking cane. Aside from the man who was restraining her arms, another was holding up McLaggen against the rough brick wall of the building. They stared blankly at the rat-faced man as he stepped towards McLaggen.

"Now, McLaggen," he lifted his cane, bringing it to rest on his shoulder, "What are we to do with you?"

"McLaggen squinted in an attempt to focus on the face swimming before his eyes. "Pettigrew?"

The man chuckled at the drunk, "And _now_ the boy is coherent!"

McLaggen gave him an uneasy smile, "Listen, I told Riddle—"

"—Three weeks ago," Pettigrew filled in for him, uninterested.

"Yes, that I'll have the money to him by the end of the month…"

"And that was last week," he said, now bored of the conversation, "I've been gracious enough by giving you an extra week, but my patience is wearing _quite_ thin."

Pettigrew's cane lifted up to rest on McLaggen's neck, pressing lightly against his windpipe. Hermione struggled against her captor's hold, as McLaggen gasped for breath.

"Leave him alone," she cried, watching McLaggen's face turn red.

Pettigrew stared at her for a moment before grinning. His leering smile made her skin crawl with disgust. She could practically _read_ the impure thoughts that crossed his mind as he studied her from head to toe.

"All we would like to do is get the money that he so desperately needs to pay back," he explained slowly, "Merely…business between colleagues."

"Do most business transaction consist of a cane to a man's throat?" she doubted.

His smile grew and he lifted the cane off of McLaggen's throat, falling to the ground coughing. Pettigrew paid him no heed, but directed his attention to Hermione.

"Oh, McLaggen chose a feisty girl, this time around," he approved. "I love a girl with spirit."

"Keep looking then," she sneered, "I'm unavailable at the moment."

"With McLaggen?" Pettigrew questioned skeptically.

She shrugged her shoulders, "Have to pass the time somehow."

He let out a deep chuckle, a hand reaching out to stroke her skin, "How could he get a bird like you…?"

Before he could brush his fingers against her, a loud '_Oi!_' rang through the night.

Pettigrew glared at the owner, but Hermione was grateful for the interruption. She turned to send some sort of a 'thank you' look, but what she saw almost made her legs give out.

_Draco…_

"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" he questioned, quickly advancing forward.

"_Private_ business," Pettigrew snapped, squaring his shoulders and pointing his cane at the intruder.

Draco's eyes traveled over the stubby man and connected with Hermione's. She tried to glare at him but she knew that he wouldn't fall for it. Not when fear was so clearly written on her face. She didn't like feeling trapped, and the man's confining grip on her forearms only made matters worse. She felt like a caged bird with clipped wings. But Draco could see right through her. _He always had_.

Pettigrew eyed him then glanced over at Hermione with a sickening smile and Hermione gave him a cold stare in return. It was a long moment of silence before Pettigrew announced his decision.

"I guess we can leave the lady out of it."

With a tug of her arm, she broke free of the henchman's hold, only to be pulled next to Draco's side. She was glad to be out of the hands of the stranger, but being near Draco…too many emotions was boiling inside of her, and all from being within a couple inches of him.

"Here," Draco dropped a couple of notes onto the street, "For the chap's cab ride."

Pettigrew nodded his thanks but his eyes were still fixed on Hermione, giving her a lustful gaze that made her inwardly squirm.

"I hope to see you again, dearie."

"I'll be waiting with bated breath," she answered sarcastically.

She turned away quickly and made her way toward the stage door, with Draco close behind.

"What the hell were you doing with him?" Draco hissed.

"Pettigrew was asking for his money back," she said, ignoring him as she stepped through the back stage door. She was greeted by a few people rushing past her and the sound of the band playing. "Maybe that's why they have him under his belt."

Draco shook his head angrily, "He's a loan shark, _that's what he does_."

Hermione glared at him stopping outside her dressing room door, "I understand that was who he is, but that is _why_ McLaggen is connected to everything, he is paying off _his_ debt by being the fall guy."

"Why were you with him?" he pressed, following her into the room and closing the door.

"Why is it any of your concern?"

"Because you could have gotten hurt."

"I think I proved that I can handle myself _multiple_ times, Malfoy, and don't need you around playing the hero!"

"I'm not playing the hero; I'm making sure you stay alive."

She spun around, rage flashing across her eyes. "I think you lost that right when you decided to leave."

"Granger," he sighed, avoiding her gaze, "We're not—"

"Yes, we are!" she snapped advancing on him, "I have waited long enough for the answers _you _don't want to tell me, you can give _that_ much!"

"I can't—"

"You _won't," _she cried. "You won't say anything to me! You think I can forget but I can't."

Draco looked up at her and his heart clenched when he saw the tears brimming her eyes. He wanted to turn away and leave, but the look of her face kept him in place.

"Why did you leave?" she asked desperately. "What happened to make you leave me alone in _our_ house? You didn't write a note, talk to me, _anything_! You claim to love me and that you wanted to be with me but you don't respect me enough to say anything to me."

She was on the verge of hysteria and Draco couldn't turn away. Just like Hermione, his emotions were boiling in the pit of his stomach and he was _so_ close to letting the dam break.

"Was I really just a conquest to you?"

He gapped at her, "No, you were—"

"Then _why_ did you leave me?" she yelled at him.

"BECAUSE HE WAS GOING TO KILL YOU!"

* * *

><p><strong>More coming soon! Reviewcomment & check out my Photobucket! **

**Thanks again Alexa!**


	22. Then Why do I Thrill?

**Thank you for your patience, schoolwork comes first!**

* * *

><p>Hermione sank into her vanity chair, the sound of the door slamming echoing in the room. Draco's story ran over and over in her head.<p>

"_BECAUSE HE WAS GOING TO KILL YOU!" he yelled at her, holding her by the arms._

"_Who?" she demanded._

"_My father."_

_Hermione's face fell. _

_The cold neglect Draco received from his father turned him into a bitter and detached adolescent. Only when his father was arrested for fraud did his mother and he feel free of Lucius's oppressive stare. He rarely spoke of his father, but when he did it was with hatred and resentment dripping from his words. She couldn't help but fear such a man, she believed him to be dangerous and intimidating, so much so that she did not wish to ever find herself in his presence._

_Draco sighed in anguish, turning around and running a hand through his blonde hair. He looked angry and agitated with himself. Glancing back at Hermione, he found her motionless, the shock of his statement still not having worn off. He turned away in shame for being the cause of her trouble._

"_The day before I left, my father was in the house when I arrived," he gave a sarcastic laugh with a shake of his head, "I should have known that even behind bars he could still creep into my life. He told me that you were beneath me and the fact that I was spending day after day with you was enough for him to be threatened. He is the epitome of what Purus Sanguinis stands for; that the pure blooded aristocrats are the elite and any one else is nothing more than the dirt under their shoes."_

_He dared to look at Hermione, who was watching him and waiting for him to continue. His jaw was clenched in anger at the thought of even speaking of his father._

"_He is so…cold, he never once told my mother or I that he loved us or that he even cared. He only cares about power and wealth," he spat in disgust, "And I am never free of his bloody controlling existence!"_

_He was walking towards her, looking deep into her eyes, "He was going to kill you and I wasn't going to let him be satisfied for ruining the only thing that was going right in my life."_

_The door opened and a small woman pocked her head inside the room, "Ten minutes, Ms. Granger."_

_Hermione nodded her head absentmindedly and the woman disappeared, closing the door again. _

_They stood in silence, neither of them breaking each other's gaze. Tears were threatening to fall but Hermione remained stone faced refusing to let them fall. Draco was breathing heavily as if every emotion that he collected over the year was slowly slipping out of his body. _

"_But he's satisfied anyway," he said dryly, shaking his head in defeat. "Because I lost you anyway."_

_He gave a sad half smile before shrugging, "What's done is done and there's nothing that can change it." He made his way to the door and opened it._

"_I'll be watching to make sure that Pettigrew doesn't make an appearance tonight," with that, he left._

The tears were beginning to escape, pouring down the side of Hermione's face as she held her head in her hands.

It all made sense now. His abrupt departure and aloof behavior. He was protecting her from his deranged father. She should be comforted that he would leave to protect her, but that didn't take away the hurt of being deserted by someone you love. She attempted to wipe her tears away with little success, as they were quickly replaced with fresh tracks.

She wanted nothing more than to run back to him wrap her arms around him and forgive him with every ounce of her being. But her stubbornness stopped her from removing herself from her vanity's stool. She berated herself for loving and hating the man that loved her enough to leave her, but she was livid that he didn't trust her enough to tell her the truth. She wasn't a china doll that was to be kept behind glass; she was a woman that was able to stand on her own two feet, which she believed to have proven multiple times over the last few weeks.

She wasn't afraid to be a target but Draco was…because he's loyal to the people closest to him. Was it because of his love for her that he left?

"_He was going to kill you and I wasn't going to let him be satisfied for ruining the only thing that was going right in my life."_

He was sincere when he said he loved her, looking into her eyes with a small, almost shy, smile as he admitted it. It brought her back to when they were together, enjoying the moments they had with each other and feeling like they had all the time in the word. She missed that, she _wanted_ that.

She brushed her hands over her face, the tears finally ceasing. She gave a sigh as she glanced as the mirror, her eyes were bloodshot and her nose red. She quickly powdered her face and made up her eyes. As she set her brush and compact back into her case a glint of gold caught her eye. Digging deeper, beneath her brushes, jewelry and powder, she pulled out the green ribbon bracelet Draco gave her.

"_Mione?"_

_She poked her head out from beneath her covers, eyeing him warily. She's been sick for the last two days and Draco never left her side; she was beginning to hate his immunization of her sickness._

"_What?" she asked lamely._

_He smiled, "How are you feeling?"_

_She glared at him, not changing his smiling face, "Well I'm just peachy, how do you think I fell?"_

_He bit back a laugh, "I figured it was something along those lines," He reached behind him, a book and a square box in his right hand, "I thought that you might want something to keep your mind off feeling sick."_

_He handed the book to her and she stuck a hand out from the blanket accepting it. She smiled when she saw the title; _The Awakening _by Kate Chopin._

"_Thank you," she said sincerely, "I'm glad that you accept my feminist wiles."_

_He laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Your feminist wit makes you even more attractive."_

_She rolled her eyes before motioning to the square box, "What's that?"_

_He shrugged, "A way to tell me if you want to see me after shows."_

_She furrowed her brow. They have been having trouble communicating to each other during her performances whether or not she wanted him to meet afterwards. She barely had time to write a note and find someone to deliver it, so they wasted time waiting for the other to come and tell the other what they wanted to do for the night._

_Draco opened the box and held it out to her. Nestled against the black fabric was a green ribbon bracelet wrapped around a string of diamonds set in gold._

"_It's beautiful," she breathed._

"_If you wear it when you sing then I'll meet you back stage," he explained, lifting it out of the box and wrapping it around her wrist, "But then again I think I would go back anyway."_

She twirled the bracelet around her wrist, looking at how the diamonds caught the light and sparkled. She wore it practically every night when they were together; rarely spending the day without each other's presence.

She wanted that again, the effortless connection they had that made them both feel like equals. She missed the tenderness he showed whenever he would smile at her, and his cheeky answers when she would question his stare. She wasn't one to dwell on the past, but for once she wished she could turn back time and try to fix what happened, tell him that she would rather die than be away from him.

She heard the woman call out the five-minute warning before they were to be on stage. She gave the bracelet a final look before clasping it around her wrist and leaving the room.

* * *

><p>Draco rolled his brandy glass in his hand, staring intently at the amber colored liquid. He should've been relived he told Hermione the truth, but at her silence he felt remorse. He destroyed everything they had with the simple act of leaving, and there was no way to put the pieces together and save what was left.<p>

Applause surrounded him, signaling the band's entry, and then grew as the singer herself walked out. He slowly turned around, his eyes scanning the crowd and looking for the mouse-faced man. He was moments away from strangling the bastard and was regretting not doing so, but then again…that would just be another reason that Hermione would hate him.

He glanced at the stage before he looked again.

Hermione was a vision, walking out and giving a small smile as she waved to the crowd. Her dress hugged her curves and glowed against her skin. Her hair was pulled back to reveal her gorgeous face, still in waves and pulled up. Then on her delicate wrist was a dark emerald green ribbon bracelet.

_Wait…is that…?_

Draco watched her walk over to the piano player and whispered something into his ear. He looked up at her confused but nodded anyway. She made her way to the microphone as the piano began to play, sweet sorrowful notes ringing out the tune to her song.

_If I didn't care more than words can say, if I didn't care would I feel this way?_

It was like he was hypnotized, the song and her voice entrancing him didn't seem to be focusing on anyone, just singing what she felt at that moment. But that seemed to make the song even more enticing.

_If this isn't love then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go 'round and 'round while my heart stands still?_

_If I didn't care…would it be the same? Would my ev'ry prayer begin and end with just your name?_

_And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare? Would all this be true if I didn't care for you?_

For a spilt second their eyes locked on each other from across the room. And everything around Draco seemed to disappear, she was all he wanted to see right now. Her light brown eyes were bright underneath the lighting of the stage, and held so much emotion that he wished she didn't have.

Her eyes were pained and conflicted, if she had been crying he could not tell. They looked at him with a look of longing, not for him but for the answers she still wanted to hear. He felt like an arse, knowing full well what was the cause of her uncertainty. Again, he wished he could turn back time and be back in her arms once again.

_If I didn't care would it be the same? Would my ev'ry prayer begin and end with just your name? _

_And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…? _

Her voice broke at the words, as if holding back tears, and she turned away from him. To the audience it would have been great acting to them, but it was heart wrenching for Draco. He saw the pain and the hurt that flashed across her face.

_Is that what happened to her when I left, leaving her broken and alone? Of course, you daft bastard… _He got off his stool, turning away in shame. He laid a bill on the bar's counter and began to walk out the room, Hermione's last line echoing in his ears.

_Would all this be true if I didn't care for…you?_

* * *

><p>Hermione opened her eyes as the sound of applause, surprising her. As she sang she almost forgot where she was, the words washing over her and drowning out the hall around her. Draco's chair was empty and she couldn't help but look around frantically for a sign of white blonde hair, oblivious to the confused and bewildered stares she was getting from the audience.<p>

She could feel herself panicking. Did he understand what she was saying? Was he ashamed? Embarrassed? Did someone see them exchange looks? Was Pettigrew here? She finally registered the crowd as her panic grew.

"Forgive me ladies and gentleman," she rushed out, "I realized that I have more pressing matters to attend to."

She hurried off stage ignoring the displeasure of the crowd and the of stagehands. She stopped only to grab her purse before taking the back exit and emerging onto the street. The street was now active, the nightlife festivities beginning. Groups and couples were walking down the street happily, huddling together against the slight cold.

But she couldn't find Draco.

She made her way to the edge of the curb, looking through the mesh of cars that went by her. She waved her hand trying to catch the attention of any open car. People looked oddly at her attire. Her dress did little to protect her from the cold. She didn't have anyone to keep her warm.

"Taxi!" she called out, making the people around her jump.

A taxi pulled to the curb, and she opened the back door not waiting for it to stop.

"Where to in such a hurry, Miss?" the cabbie asked.

"12 Howling Lane," Hermione answered, not giving it a second thought, "And quickly, please?"

He nodded, "Of course, Miss,"

As the car moved slowly through traffic, Hermione's anxiousness began to consume her. She felt like the lovesick woman that couldn't stand to be away from her lover for less than a minute. In a way that _was _her, running to a man that left her, claiming that he did it for love. Was it even true, or was he telling her a story that relieved his guilt?

Multiple times she leant forward to ask the driver to stop and take her back but each time she set her hand back onto her lap and slumped into the seat, annoyed at her indecision. The tender moments they'd had were flooding her mind. She didn't want to turn around and lose another chance.

The emotion and feelings were true; Hermione knew that Draco could not fake his happiness even if he tried. He wasn't a man who easily diverted from his stoic façade, but with her he became…_alive_.

Hermione couldn't help but smile as she remembered the times when they fought. It was never screaming at each other, but a verbal battle of wits. Between a sharp-tongued shrew and an arrogant silver-spoon child, their remarks and insults composed symphonies. Back and forth, without pause, the words easily rolled off the tongue. Sometimes, it would escalate to hateful words that wouldn't be taken lightly but he was always the one to stop, swoop her in his arms and kiss her like mad. He would pull back and smirk in arrogance.

"Now, what where we arguing about?"

She never could remember.

And when he would come home…

_Home._

It pained her to think about the place where they'd shared their lives. People talked—then again, everyone naturally did—about them living together without being married. But it was of no consequence. The fact that they were loyal to each other was enough…to believe that he would love her no matter what happen.

"Sir, can you hurry?" she pleaded. "Please?" she added as an afterthought, not wanting to appear demanding.

He gave her a questioning look, "I'm going as fast as I'm allowed, Miss."

She sighed heavily, falling back against the seat.

She'd waited almost a year for Draco's answers. She wasn't going to allow him to run away with no explanation yet again. Hermione steeled her jaw in defiance. This time she would have a say in the matter.

* * *

><p><strong>Songs Used:<strong>

**If I Didn't Care-**Connie Francis/Amy Adams


	23. If I Didn't Care

The front door was unlocked and Hermione could see the light of a lone lamp shining through the curtained window. It's been over a year since she stepped foot in this house, _their_ house. After a few weeks of waiting for Draco to come back, she packed her things and left without looking back. She dedicated herself to her career, accepting late night jobs that were bound to keep her mind busy and go late into the night.

Now, she was back at the front door.

She opened the door and was greeted by silence. She carefully stepped into the house, following the light into the sitting room's archway. She halted, seeing Draco resting in an armchair next to the fireplace. A tumbler of untouched liquor resting on the arm and his shoes and socks tossed in a bundle on the floor next to his bare feet. He glanced up at her with uncertain eyes, waiting.

They were quiet for a long while. Hermione fidgeted restlessly while Draco looked down, unable or unwilling to meet her eyes. Hermione covered her arms, trying to gain some sense of comfort with the situation.

"Why?" she breathed.

"I love you." Draco answered, understanding the simple question.

"Did you love me enough to tell me why you had to leave?"

"I didn't want you to know because I _know_ that you would stay with me regardless of your own safety." He finally looked at her, almost in reproach, daring her to contradict him.

She bit her lower lip, making Draco's lips twitch in a fleeting smile. She did that whenever she was in deep thought, determined not to lose her ground in any argument.

"You still could have told me," she said softly. "Waking up in the middle of the night _alone_ is far worse than knowing I'm spending my last days with you."

Draco looked away again, ashamed, "I felt that I had no choice, I would rather you live without me than not have you in the world."

"There could have been other options—"

"There _were_ no other options," he insisted.

"We could have run away," she tried.

"My father would have hunted us down like dogs," he snarled with distaste.

"He's not the all powerful demon you make him out to be; why are you cowering?"

He stood up abruptly his eyes ablaze, "I'm _NOT_ cowering!"

"You _are_!" She yelled, "If you loved me, you would have told me what was happening with your father. If you cared about me you wouldn't have left me, _alone_ with no idea where you were. You don't care about me because you don't understand what you did to me!"

She was in tears, unabashed as her cold façade crumbled before him. Draco had dreaded this, dreaded the droplets that rolled down her pale face, hated the pain that came with it. Tears that fell because of him.

"I trusted you!" She cried out, "I gave you the _one_ thing that I never wanted to give to _anyone! _And you just…"

Her hand covered her mouth as she stifled a sob, her tears falling quickly. Draco walked toward her; ignoring the hand she raised to stop him.

"Why?" she questioned, "If you loved me, would you do such a thing?"

He took her hand in his, holding in gently against his heart. He almost forgot the feel of her skin against his own. The smooth, soft skin he once spent hours tracing. Her long dainty fingers unconsciously wrapping around his strong ones, and despite the tears running down her cheeks she was still as beautiful as when he first meet her.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, "That's not enough, I know that, and for everyday that I was away from you it _killed _me. It was the greatest mistake I have ever done in my life."

She looked up at him with searching eyes. She could feel his heart thundering beneath her palm. Her skin burned where his hand covered her.

"I didn't know what I was thinking but the only thing on was mind was _your_ safety, mine be damned. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you forever. I couldn't imagine a world without you. I wouldn't have any idea how to move on with my life because you _were_ my life. You made life bearable, and at the end of the day I would be with you and only you, I never wanted to give that up… but I _had_ to. I would rather have you alive without me and hate me than die because of my selfishness."

Hermione bit her lip, looking down at his hands wrapped around hers then up at him, him still gazing down at her. She didn't realize how close he was to her. She hasn't been this close to him since they danced at the Jacobson, but unlike that tense moment where she felt that people were watching her every move, this was tender and warm. It was so intimate, so familiar – she could barely breathe.

"Mione…" he whispered.

Fresh tears slid down her cheeks, which he wiped away with the pad of his thumb.

"I love you," she answered.

Draco didn't hesitate. He brought his mouth down on hers, practically sighing at the familiarity of her soft lips against his own. He gathered her in his arms, feeling her body against his own. She was shaking, from nerves or tears, he didn't know, he just pulled her tightly to him wanting to comfort her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to him, desperate to get closer.

Draco's hands slid down, feeling the curves of her figure before falling on the back of her thighs, gripping them softly and then lifting her up in his arms. He let their lips part and trailed down her neck. He nipped at the juncture between the neck and her shoulder, smiling against her skin when he heard a familiar moan pass her lips.

Hermione desperately clung to him, her hands clutching his shirt. She knew that she should be angry, storming out of the house and never looking back at him again. But she couldn't. His words were honest and so sincere, that the walls she had built against him were broken. She wanted him – no – _needed_ him. She wanted to be wrapped in her arms and never leave them again. Months of being confused and livid ceased; she was desperate to get back those lost months without him.

He broke away, "Mione, I don't want to stop but I don't want to push—"

"Please Draco," she said, "I never wanted anything more than you."

He looked up at her a small smirk, "You called be Draco."

She blushed, "You called be 'Mione."

He dove back to her lips, stumbling out of the room and towards the stairs. Hermione had her hands clasped around his neck and her legs holding around his waist, but Draco struggled to hold his grip with the layers of her dress making it difficult. He reached out his hand to the wall to guide him up the stairs as he nipped at her bottom lip. She groaned with him as his tongue slid into her mouth, smoothly moving against her own.

They made it to the top of the stairs, and Draco held her tightly as he walked them down the hallway. He stopped in front of a room, holding her against the door as he trailed his hands down her legs and wrapped around them. Her fingers wound into his blonde locks and tugged him closer. His hands slipped under her long skirt, dragging his hands against her smooth skin and running along her thighs. She inhaled sharply as she quivered against his hands, that familiar desire stirring inside her. Draco bent his head down and kissed at her collarbone and slid his along the inside of her thighs.

He turned the doorknob and held her as he pushed her against the door to open She rolled her head to the side, moaning at the sweet torture he gave her.

She looked over his shoulder and suddenly pulled away from him. They were in their room, _their _room.

It was the same as when she last saw it. The bed, the small bench resting at its feet, the aged gold frame mirror as a headboard, nothing truly changed. She slid down from Draco's arms and walked slowly with her hands nervously clasped in front of her chest feeling her racing heart. Her eyes roamed over the drapes covering the tall windows. In the mornings, Draco would throw them open letting the sun wash over their naked bodies. He's said it was because he liked looking at her. That she was most beautiful bathed in light, when he could see all of her. She never stopped him. Mostly because she liked the way he looked in the light too. There were no shadows to mar his features. No darkness to hide his smiles. His fair hair shone in the light. Like an angel, she'd thought then. Her protector.

She turned away. The tall dresser set against the wall stopped her. A line of frames lined side by side along the top and held pictures of herself and Draco. A few of her when she was first beginning as a singer and a few of Draco's formal photographs, but the ones of them together caught her eye. Holding each other close, oblivious that a camera was even on them.

They looked so happy together, a distant memory that could be considered a dream. Tears sprung in the corner of her eyes. She wanted it back, all of it—Draco, the laughter, the happiness.

Hermione jumped as she felt two hands placed themselves on her forearms. They rubbed her skin, spreading warmth through her anxious body. She leaned back into Draco, letting his arms wrap around her and resting her hands against his forearms.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "It will never be enough, but I'll keep saying it, whether you forgive me or not."

She turned her head to him, "I do, but I just want to forget about everything that's happened."

"We can't―"

She turned around. She needed to look at him. To really _see_ him.

His arms slid to her waist, drawing her to him. He gave her a hopeful smile.

"―but we can start over,"

She smiled back at him, "We can start with that."

Draco bent down and kissed her. Hermione wrapped her hands around his neck, savoring the sweetness of his lips. He swept his hands up her sides, slowly trailing them to the back of her gown. She shivered at the feel of his fingertips against her bare skin, as he sought out the zipper along her spine. Her hands moved to the front of his shirt, nimbly unbuttoning it and stroking his skin as is it was revealed. She trailed back up and pulled his shirt off by the lapels, biting her lip as she glanced at his fit physique. He was handsome, she knew, and yet the sight of his bare skin took her breath away. She smiled softly, looking up at him as he smiled back, brushing away a stray curl. She leaned forward brushing her mouth against his collarbone and grinning at the sigh that escaped his lips.

Draco held her close, pulling at her dress zipper. She sighed as his rough hands caressed the smooth skin of her back, feeling the dress slide down her body and pool at her feet. He took a step back and glanced down at her, his hands never stopping their touch. She was flawless, her skin practically glowing for him. He trailed his hands across her stomach following the curves to her hips, her skin feeling hot and smooth against his hands, giving them both a painful pleasure of anticipation.

He sank to his knees before her, trailing his hands down the length of her leg at a slow tantalizing pace. He then took her ankle in his hand and unbuckled her heeled shoe, dropping it carelessly to the side. He placed a light kiss on her knee before bestowing the same care and attention to the other. He rose, eyeing the strapless brassiere and knickers that covered the remnants of her skin and seemed to taunt him.

"Draco," she breathed, withering under his scorching gaze.

She let out a yelp as he swung her easily into his arms. She let him carry her to the bed, _their_ bed, and set her gently against the pillows. Before he could crawl above her, she sat up and turned towards him, her lips seeking his. He returned it with passion, devouring her mouth, her breath, her sanity. Her hands felt their way to the belt of his trousers, undoing the buckle before working on the button of his trousers. He batted her hands away and leaned forward to make her fall back onto the bed. He tugged his trousers and boxers off and climbed on top of her, letting his body fall against hers and groaning as he felt her familiar bare skin against his own.

Draco's hands began to wander again, slipping under her body and fingering the clasp of her brassiere. When he felt it give way, he drew it off her body, tossing it to the side. He ran his hands over the soft curves of her breasts; kneading and kissing them as Hermione trembled beneath him. He licked at her erected peaks making her cry out and arch her back to him. He trailed his mouth down her stomach skimming across the band of her knickers, and then tugged them away by his hooked fingers and dragging them down off her hips.

He moved to gazed down at her, shifting so he sat in between her slender legs. Her eyes stared up it his, deep chocolate brown eyes that were wide and filled with such passion and anticipation.

"I love you."

Caressing his cheek, she smiled. "And I love you."

Titling his head, he placed a kiss into the palm of her hand. She let out a contented sigh as he glided into her. He filled her, stretched her, moving slowly to savor every moment. She moved her hips to meet him, clinging to him as if he would disappear. She whimpered in delight as he moved above her, her warmth wrapped around him. Familiar tension was building throughout her body, her hands shaking as her body reacted of its own accord. Draco held them in his own pressing them down to the bed and interlacing his fingers with hers. She groaned in frustration at his hold, hating how he still, like herself, wanted to have control.

Draco dropped his head, his panting breath tickling her ear.

"I'm _not_ letting you go."

"You better not," she replied with a sly smile.

He gave a deep chuckle against her neck, kissing and nipping it as he crawled across her neckline slowly. He moved above her, their chests gliding against each other in a kind sweet torture. Her breathing began to stumble, not able to coherently control her actions—the cries running out of her mouth, her hips seeking his, her hands struggling against his strong hands. Heat began to boil inside her again as he quickened his pace again, to point where her breath had grown heavy and her body feeling like it was drowning in an inferno. Her head was spinning and she felt like she was floating.

Suddenly, the tension broke inside her. Her cries mingling with Draco as he soon followed. She felt like she was drowning – in his scent, in his warmth, in her release. Her mind ceased to think and she fell into the wave of pleasure that crushed over them. They couldn't catch their breath, their hearts were thundering against each other's chest, and their bodies quivered with the pleasure that running through them.

They basked in the sweet silence, at having each other in such an intimate embrace, not sullying it with words for the time being.

She felt Draco's lips drag themselves against the skin of her neck feeling her racing pulse. She could feel his heart slowing against her chest, and his hands soothing her sides that he was gripping moments ago. Her moved her hands to lie atop Draco's back, rising and falling with his heavy breath as she stroked his skin, coaxing him to come back to her.

He looked at her with a soft expression, "I missed having you in my arms."

She returned his smile, using a hand to brush away the feathery bangs that hide his piercing grey eyes "As did I."

He nuzzled his cheek and kissed her palm before kissing her wrist, making her gasp at the quick thrill that spread through her body.

He smirk at her reaction, "Still sensitive there?"

"I don't know what you mean," she answered, blushing slightly.

He smiled, kissing it again and trailing lower down her arm. His other hand trailed down her thigh to behind her knee, hitching it up next to his side. She yelped as she suddenly found herself sitting on top of him, her legs kneeling on the outside of his legs with their chests against one another and still joined. He leaned forward sitting upright and wrapped his arms around her waist, his head dropped slightly to rest on the tops of her breasts. Hermione let her arms rest atop his shoulders holding him close to her, her fingers twisting in the hairs at the nape of his neck. His hands wandered again, stroking along the base of her spine and her sides.

She shivered at the slight stubble of his chin brushing against her breasts innocently. He cupped one hand to her breast and kneaded the soft skin, his mouth opening against her skin and catching the tight nipple in his mouth. He gently sucked it for a moment before nipping it and giving equal attention to the other. Her head fell back at his ministrations, groaning at the slow feelings building up again. She felt his mouth trail along the curve of her shoulder and heard a soft sigh. Draco's shoulders seemed to tremble.

"I love you," he whispered against her skin, "I'm not going to let you get away ever again."

She stiffened, her mind catching up with her at his words. This was the moment she wanted, but moments change. There might be a moment in the distant future where he'll go against his promise and she would be in the same place she was only a few years ago. Anxiety spread through her, the loneliness of his sudden disappearance and the helplessness she felt sinking into her.

He looked up at her, his eyes filled him concern, "'Mione?"

"I'm sorry, I can't. How…how do I _know_?"

He turned away ashamed but then stretched over to his bedside table drawer, reaching in and then pulling out a silver chain. He sat back in front of her, holding the chain in front of her. She looked at the simple chain in confusion, making him chuckle. He lifted a few fingers from his clenched fist and let something fall to catch the end.

Hermione gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. A ring hung on the chain. A round diamond shined as it sat on a square bed of tiny grey diamonds almost blending in with the dark metal around it. It was so perfect and beautiful it brought tears to her eyes.

"This is _my_ promise to you..."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the delay! With school over and beta reader issues I've been swamped the last couple of life! I'm also revising a few chapters in my existing stories so check them out. Thanks for sticking with me and reviews always make me happy! <strong>

**REVISED: Le Jazz Hot Ch. 1 **


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